The 101st Annual Hunger Games
by missallyrose
Summary: "The sword glitters in my hand as I raise it. 'Please don't' she cries. I bring the sword down and smile as the light leaves her eyes. Too bad. She was fun to hunt down." The tributes are in and Caesar is getting his questions ready. T for safety.
1. Final Update!

**All right, here is the final list, yay! I filled in the male tributes from 11 and 12 by myself, so if you want to still add a male tribute from those districts, just review.**

1:

m: Carbon Night

f: Glamor Zon

2:

m: Erik Roberts

f: Ebony Darknight

3:

m: Derek Labre

f: Mila Keeley

4:

m: Marcus Lively

f: Emma Townsend

5:

m: Meck Silkey

f: Celsie Crete

6:

m: Lare Corollo

f: Tristie Perkins

7:

m: Corin Hightree

f: Avella Hightree

8:

m: Asur Wybock

f: Annora Carlton

9:

m: Colt

f: Iota Nightshade

10:

m: Drew Mutsaka

f: Evi Trint

11:

m: Kin Cryer

f: Kiki Tavela

12:

m: Ax Crillenhall

f: Kesha Goldenrod

**I had to move around a couple of you to make sure that all the tributes were included, so if you don't like where you are just PM me.**

**Happy Hunger Games!**

**Ally**


	2. District One Reaping

**Glamor POV**

"Hey Glamor!" I turn nonchalantly. Today, it's Valor fighting for my affections, he's in my grade at school. Valor is probably the dumbest boy in District One, and I'm not exaggerating. I mean, he's strong and kind and funny, but if you ask him an algebra question his eyes just glaze over.

"Hey Valor," I respond half-heartedly over my shoulder. I hear his feet stomping up to me. Soon, he's at my side. "Where are you headed?"

"Home," he replies unconvincingly. I give him a funny look.

"You live halfway across town."

He blinks at me. "Well...I, uh, ya see..."

"Valor, if you wanna walk me to my house, just ask."

"Really?" Valor lets out a breath he's apparently been holding. "Ok then."

As we walk, Valor smirks at the jealous boys staring daggers at him and ogling at me. I guess I'm sort of a boy magnet. "You know Glamor, I'm not busy Friday night, and I was thinking that maybe you and I could watch a movie at my place?" We are at my house in the Victor's Village now; a huge sprawling white mansion.

"The truth is, I need a man who is a little more, well, perceptive than you are. Gotta go, bye." Valor takes a second to perceive what I said to him, then his face falls.

"See ya around I guess." He says sullenly as I open the door. I have a feeling that he will be asking his parents what perceptive means when he gets home.

As I enter the huge marble foyer – winning the Games in District One has its benefits – I dash straight to the tandem bathroom that I share with my little sister, Glitz. I turn on the shower and peel off my street clothes, a short skirt that shows off my creamy thin legs and a babydoll tank top, and step into the barrage of warm water. I rinse my long blonde hair and scrub my willowy body with floral scented soap. When I step out, half an hour has gone by. I dry out my long hair and slip on a snow white dress that brings out my sky blue eyes. I add some white eyeshadow, a dab of pink lip gloss, and then I'm done.

As I open the door, I see my twelve-year-old sister, almost a mirror-image of a younger me, but her blue eyes are one shade darker than mine. "My turn!" She gleefully declares. We both share a love for primping.

I take a seat on the large beige couch in the living room, waiting for my mother and father to emerge from their room. About five minutes later, they do. My mother is tugging my father along behind her, her spring green eyes glistening with the triumph of getting him into a dress shirt. She has even combed his strawberry blonde wavy hair so it doesn't look like he just woke up. As for her, she is dressed in a black sheath dress, and her platinum blonde hair, the same exact color as mine and Glitz's, is pulled into a bun on top of her perfect head. In heels, she is exactly one inch taller than our 5'10" father. Without heels, I am exactly one inch taller than him too. Glitz is 5'6 ½".

My father won the 83rd Hunger Games at the age of eighteen, how old I am now. My mother, pregnant with me, was seventeen when he left. I was born on the day he was crowned victor, and I have always wanted to follow in his footsteps. I have been trained by him ever since I knew what the Hunger Games were, and I think that I am ready, and so do most of the other residents of the Victor's Village.

When Glitz finally finishes getting ready, we all walk down to the square. Glitz and I go to our designated age groups while Dad takes his seat on stage and Mom stands in the front. Our District One escort is wobbling around onstage in her ridiculous heels, and she pulls a name out of the ball filled with girls' names. And, unexpectedly, she calls me. I walk up to the stage confidently, and no one volunteers. Probably because they think that I will kill them on the spot if I do.

And they are all right.

**Carbon POV**

My life is probably the suckiest life in One right now. No joke. Both my parents are dead. I have to live with my best friend and watch his mother die slowly. And now, he wants me to volunteer for the Hunger Games. The same cruel event that killed my brother. He tells me that this will be the only way to save his mother, that if I win, we'll be able to afford the medicine needed to save his mother. What he doesn't say is that if I die, it'll be one less mouth to feed. For them, it's a win-win situation. But not for me. I guess I shouldn't be as angry as I am right now, I mean, they are the poorest family in the Hole, the slums of District One. I would do the same thing if I were my friend, too weak to stand a chance. Maybe he truly believes that I have a chance. Maybe I _do_ have a chance.

By now, I have calmed myself down. Of course, I probably won't get in with the Careers; I am slim and small, and I have never had any Games training to speak of, but I am fast, and I can handle a knife pretty well. I am also intelligent, more than a lot of the Careers can say for themselves, so now's not the time to give up hope.

I am not mad at Sam. I am not made at his sister, Sullia, or his sick mother, Gracia. I am grateful to them, for showing me the truth. I can win this year, just maybe. But I'll take 'just maybe.'

I am at the town square now, about a mile away from our small cottage in the Hole. I walk to the roped off section for fourteen-year-olds. I see many familiar faces from school, but I don't go out of my way to talk to any of them. By now, I am completely calm and relaxed, like how I am every day. Mayor Iven is reading the Treaty of Treason now, and I nearly fall asleep. Then, when the drone of his voice is finally finished, Coranthi Chrissus, our insane escort, walks on to the platform. She wastes no time in wobbling over to the girls' reaping ball and pulls out a poor girl's death sentence. "Glamor Zon!" The words ring out from her painted mouth and resound in my ears, making my heart thud. It can't be Glamor!

As the girl tribute glides to the stage, I draw in an intake of breath. I've had a crush on Glamor since I was ten and she was thirteen. I find it hard to believe that her willowy body would be able to take a punch, let alone pack one, but everyone seems afraid to volunteer for her. Well, she has been in Training for years, so you never know what secrets she holds.

Now, it's time for Coranthi to reveal the boy tribute. She reaches into a huge glass ball filled to the brim with paper.

_Please don't be me, _ I think with ever clack of her heels against the wood. _Please don't be me! _

"Carbon Night!"

Oh crap, it's me. I shuffle to the stage, trying to hide the zombie look on my face from the cameras as the reality of it all sinks in. I didn't even have to volunteer. But, the girl that I have a crush on is going to try to kill me in about a week.

_I'm going to die_, I think, but strangely calmly. _And if I don't, I'll have to kill Glamor to get home._

**Glamor POV**

The boy that walks up to the stage, Carbon Something, looks so weak that he could be killed with a toothpick. He'll be easy prey. Then, when he finally gets to the stage, Coranthi orders us to shake hands. I extend my hand, and he does the same. He limply gives my hand a shake, his face possessing a calm expression. I don't think that he gets that I am going to make my father proud by killing him and all the other little weak tributes who try to win. I'm coming home.

Then, a couple of Peacekeepers come in with guns, herding us into the Justice building. They're both shorter than me. I plop down on one of the soft couches in the room, waiting for my family to come in.

The door opens and in rushes Glitz, a broad smile on her face. "You did it! You're gonna win, sis!"

"You're so right, Glitz."

Then, my father and mother come in, huge smiles also plastered onto their faces, probably matching mine.

"We are so proud of you, honey." My mom says, in a calming voice.

My dad is all strategy. "Remember Glam, the Cornucopia is a deathtrap, even for a Zon. Let the stronger Careers get all the weapons, and you'll have your pick. Make sure that they get plenty of knives for you, and definitely a sword or two."

"Got it, Dad."

"That Night kid won't give you too much trouble, but don't waste your efforts on him, go for the strongest first."

"Sure."

"And remember, this is for you, to wear home." My mother pulls out a beautiful golden locket, with a picture of my father when he won the Hunger Games. The other side is blank, waiting. Waiting for a picture of me.

"I love it, I won't let you guys down!" I yell as the Peacekeepers lead them out the door.

And I swear that I won't.

**Carbon POV **

"You can do it, Car." Sam says, with his sister Sullia weeping on the arm of her chair. Sam tries to comfort his sister as he gives advice to me. "Just don't let your crush get to you, and you'll be fine."

_Oh great, he knows. _ I think bitterly. _ I wonder who else does?_

Then before I know it, they are shoved out of the room by the Peacekeepers. I turn to Glamor, building up the courage to speak to her for the first time. "Allies?" I ask, my voice cracking a little. _Dang puberty! _

She looks me over. "Are you a Career?"

"Well, not exactly..."

"Then no. I thought that you were too puny to be one after all." She says, with a toss of her golden hair.

_Oh well, at least I tried, _were the last thoughts that I had as the Peacekeepers come again and push us onto a fancy silver bullet train.

We're heading to our deaths.

**Hope you guys like it! Carbon was a little hard to write in, but I had fun 8). Hope I portrayed them well! Remember, every time you review, you save a person's life. ( not really but still). Please R&R!**


	3. District Two Reaping

**Ebony POV**

I pull my long curly brown hair into a ponytail as I face my trainer, Isa. "How'd I do?" I ask her. Though Isa has incredibly long legs, I tower over her at 5'10". I'm used to it.

"You've definitely improved, Ebony." Isa wipes the glistening sweat from our bout off of her forehead. "I think that you're ready." Isa is a former victor of the Games. She agreed to train a small and select group of children for the Hunger Games, all hand-picked by Isa herself. It's unspoken but true that I am the best one here – and everybody knows it. "You better get going, Ebony. Don't wanna be late for the Reaping – especially if you're gonna win it this year."

I laugh. "See you in the Victor's Village!" I yell over my shoulder, scooping up my gym bag and heading home.

I walk to the cozy little cottage that I share with my sister, Belladonna, and my fiancé, Lucas. As I open the large wooden door, Belladonna leaps up from the loveseat that she was sitting on. "Let's go! We're gonna be late for my first Reaping!" Belladonna is just like our mother – very punctual.

"Good to see you too, Don." I let out a laugh that can only be heard around my family.

Lucas, hearing the sound of my voice, steps out of our room, buttoning a button on his dress shirt. "Hey hun." I kiss him, causing Belladonna to wrinkle her nose in mock disgust. "How was Training?"

"You know, the usual..." I begin. "Kick Lara's butt at knife throwing, pin Leif to the ground, yet again..." Lucas knows that I am especially cocky during Training, and this year, he also knows that I am going to win. And, being voted Most Likely Victor in our Training group doesn't help my ego one bit.

Don comes from behind me and practically shoves me into my room. "Change!" she demands.

"Fine, Belladonna, I'll change. Jeez," I add, for good measure. Once in my room, I peel off my sweaty Training clothes and select one of my mother's old dresses, a lovely flowy golden one that matches my eyes perfectly. I take a second to comb my dark curls into perfect ringlets, apply some clear lip gloss, and walk out of our room.

Lucas takes my hand as we walk out of our home and onto the street, my crazy sister bounding ahead of us, hoping to catch a glimpse of the boy she likes, leaving us giggling. The Darknight family is off to the Reaping.

**Erik POV**

Leif begs for mercy as I pin him to the floor in the park outside of our neighborhood, and I pull my fist away from his face. I _am _just practicing, anyways. I retie my chin-length black hair into a ponytail and sneer at my 'friend'. He is such a pussy that I don't know why I bother.

"Oh come on. Man up already!" I can't believe that Leif somehow made Isa's exclusive Training team and I didn't. Oh, well, who needs stupid Isa when you have _my_ brains.

"C'mon Erik, lay off. I've already been pinned by Ebony today, and she pins hard." Leif shudders at the memory of Darknight shoving him to wooden floor of the Training Gym.

"You let that puny Darknight chick pin you to the ground? How lame is that?" I laugh again.

"Whatever, man. I'm going home." Leif says. I pull my knee off of his chest and turn towards my house.

"Bye, see you at the Reaping." I say over my shoulder. I walk the short distance to my large home. My father is one of the greatest doctors in District Two, so of course we live in comfort.

As I walk through the double doors, I see my father in the kitchen. It is sometimes strange to see such a muscular man in a kitchen cooking, but when you realize how big of a wimp he is, you get over it.

"How was your morning?" My father asks, kindly.

"I was preparing for the Games that you were too chicken to volunteer for, how about you?" I don't even try to mask the pure disgust in my voice, matching the pure disgust rising up in my heart. I never try to be kind – there's no room for kindness in a victor's heart.

My father flinches and ignores me; just the way I prefer it. Who needs to talk when you can work out a strategy for the Games? I sure don't. "I'm going to change."

I stalk up the white stairs and down the white hallway to my room. On top of being an _amazing _doctor my father is also an OCD freak. I make sure to rub some dirt and dried blood on the immaculately white wall next to my father's door. Just to annoy him. I throw on a pair of jeans with the least amount of dirt on them, and a blue shirt with a small smear of blood on the collar, from when I beat up Jase Vernon. I race down the stairs and make sure to slam the door as I leave to go to the square.

**Ebony POV**

I wait anxiously in the group of eighteen-year-olds, informing them not to volunteer because it is _my _year. Soon, our district escort, Crete Mervin, looking like a tiger with his striped skin and jet-black hair, strides onto the stage after the mayor sits in his seat. Two huge glass balls, made in the Capitol to look like the ones in every other district, stand ominously on either side of the large stage. One holds the name of the girl that I will volunteer for. The other holds the name of the boy that I will have to kill.

"No dawdling, folks, so let's meet our lovely girl tribute!" Crete exclaims joyfully. He reaches a mutated hand with possibly real claws built onto each finger. He scrapes out a small piece of paper. "Kina Dawson!"

"I volunteer!" I shoot my hand in the air as high as I can, not even second-guessing my plan. I run up to the stage and stand between Crete and the Reaping Ball, as if to stop him from drawing out another name. "My name is Ebony Darknight and I volunteer as tribute."

"Well, I see that I was prophetic in saying our _lovely _girl tribute. You certainly are a pretty thing..." I wince internally as Crete looks me over, up my legs, over my hips and small waist, and then they finally rest on the big diamond ring resting on my ring finger. I twirl it to show him that I am engaged. He sickens me, as do all of the rainbow-people of the Capitol. "Onto the boys!" Crete says, a little bit of disappointment creeping into his voice. "Ri –" Crete is cut off by a snakelike voice cutting through the whispers of the crowd.

"I volunteer!" The snake voice says again, and I recognize the form of Erik Roberts pushing through the crowd roughly.

"Dear me," Crete looks like he is about to wet himself with excitement, "Two volunteers! District Two certainly has the bravest tributes!"

_Or the stupidest, _I think darkly.

Crete says a few more things, then motions for Erik and I to shake hands. I grip his hand, which is disturbingly oily, and vow never to trust this person. I can see the same thought mirrored in his creepy green eyes.

**Erik POV**

A pair of Peacekeepers usher me and the stupid Darknight girl into a reception area, with a privacy divider splitting the room in half. I choose the nicer side, and give Ebony the one that's less furnished. Of course though, I'm not going to accept any visitors, because for one: I'll be back soon so why bother and two: the only person that would come is my father, who I don't want to look at let alone talk to. Instead, I settle with eavesdropping on Darknight.

**Ebony POV**

"Hey honey," I say as Lucas sits on the worn couch across from me, the sheer terror and despair in his eyes ruining his brave façade. He pulls me in for a kiss, and I want to freeze that moment forever, to never ever have to let go of my kind, gentle, strong, wonderful, amazing fiancé. But then Don rushes in sobbing.

"You have to win! I don't think that I'd ever be able to stand just bugging Lucas, he's not as much fun to bug as you." Belladonna says, only half-joking. I smile, pulling them into a hug.

"No matter what happens, Ebony Darknight, I will never _ever _forget you!" Lucas calls as the Peacekeepers escort him out of the door.

**Erik POV**

While Darknight and I wait for the Peacekeepers to escort us to the train I go over my options. I could kill her at the beginning when she doesn't expect it. I could hunt her down in the arena, but that would waste too muh time. Or, I could ally with her and ruthlessly stab her in the back, literally. I smile at my cruelty and plop down next to my competition.

"I'm smarter than you give me credit for, ya know." I begin.

"Why are you even talking to me. Admit it, you can't wait to cut my heart out and display it on a stick."

Whoa, this girl is like physcic or something! I give her one of my best smiles, expecting her to give in, but she flinches away from me. "Allies?"

"With you? I'm not stupid. I'll take going solo, thanks." Ebony stands up as the Peacekeepers walk in and she rushes away from me and into the bullet train waiting for us.

_If she were against anyone else but me, she might actually stand a chance, _I think, grinning.


	4. District 3 Reaping

**Mila POV**

_The sky is a brilliant blue, the clouds look like the cotton that Relly the toymaker uses to stuff the teddy bears that she sells to the children of District Three. I look down, and all I see is white. I am walking on the clouds! "Mila!" A soft voice calls, and I recognize it as my mother's. _

"_Mama? Mama?" I yell, chasing after the phantom voice, my feet silent against the cotton clouds._

"_Mila wake up!" the voice has begun to lose the soft delicateness of my mother's voice._

"_I am awake, Mama, where are you?" I call, getting worried, then I see the clouds dissolving beneath my feet; and myself falling. I scream._

"Mila, are you alright?" I look up to see a mirror of my face looming over me. My twin Miah is gently shaking my shoulder. "Why were you screaming?"

"No reason," I hastily reply, looking into her worried brown-green eyes, identical to mine.

"Well you nearly gave Gran a heart attack," Miah laughs; our grandmother is the bravest person we know from years of working in the dangerous factories. Whenever one twin scares the other, we blame it on Gran. It's sort of an inside joke. Our parents were both killed in a factory accident, along with our older brother Mill, so we do whatever we can to laugh around here.

"Why did you wake me up so early?" I ask groggily, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"C'mon silly. Don't tell me that you don't remember? It's the Reaping!" Miah pulls out the wooden hair comb from the drawer on our vanity and brushes out her long chocolate locks. She waves her hand in front of her nose. "Go take a shower or something, you smell terrible!" Miah laughs, she is never her usual shy self around Gran and I. "Come help me do my hair. You were so good at this, like Mama." I feel a pang in my heart as I walk over to the vanity, picking up the comb and a couple of simple clips and ribbons. I braid half of her hair around head, and leave the rest of her hair down and flowing, so that it looks like her hair is a crown. This is the way Mama would do our hair for the Reapings, and tears prick behind my eyes.

I leave my hair loose and long, and throw on an old dress that I've worn thousands of times. We have enough money to buy another, but this one was a gift from my mother. I just don't have the heart to give it up.

"You look beautiful, darlings," Gran says as we walk down the stairs into the foyer. She puts her old wrinkly hands on either side of my face and kisses me, then she does the same with Miah. "You two look just like your parents. Let's go, nobody wants to be late for a Reaping."

**Derek POV**

My sister looks the best when she sleeps. Her face is relaxed and free of the stress that comes with poverty. The sad thing is that she's only eight, and she looks like she has the world on her thin shoulders. I hesitate to wake her and bring her back into reality, but I have to. "Krissy, time for the Reaping," Krissy lets out a groan of unhappiness, then pushes herself out of the bed.

"Derek," she whines. "Can't I ever get some sleep?" Sometimes Krissy gets insanely grumpy in the morning. And _I _have to put up with it, but it's worth it. Better living here in my friend's old home, than out on the streets or in the community home. But I love Krissy, no matter how grumpy she is in the morning.

"Just get up, sweetheart. District Three ain't gonna wait for Krissy Labre to get ready."

"Fine I gotta change." Krissy shoes me out of her small room and emerges about ten minutes later in her best (and only) dress. It is a faded peach with ribbons weaving through the hem and a big peach sash around the middle.

I offer my arm to her, and she takes it smiling; she's always in a better mood after she's dressed. "Let's go to the Reaping. After you, miss," I say, always a different person around the only other family I have left.

At the square, I take my place in the eighteen-year-old section, and everyone ignores me, just as I ignore them. _Who needs friends?_ I think, _when you have a little sister and smarts. _

Mayor Lithum clears her throat in the microphone. Her hair is graying and her body is bone thin. "Welcome to the 101st Annual reaping!" I tune her out. Why listen to an old woman recite something that you have heard a billion times? Then, Barbi Moller, in all her hot pink glory, struts to the podium. "Ladies first District Three!" Barbi grabs a piece of paper with her six-inch long hot pink nails.

"Mila Keeley!"

**Mila POV**

When my name is called, my heart stops and blood pounds in my ears. I can't breathe, let alone walk up to the stage to meet Barbi Moller. Shy Miah grabs my elbow to steady me and tearfully pushes me to the stage. I don't know why she doesn't volunteer, maybe because she knows that I don't want her to. I walk up nevertheless, strengthened by my sister.

As I reach the stage, Barbi pulls out the boy tribute's name. "Derek Labre!" A tall eighteen-year-old joins me on the stage, and he looks unhappy. A wailing emanates from the back of the square.

Derek and I shake hands, and we are headed to the Justice building, prodded by Peacekeepers. I sit down on one of the couches in my private receiving area and wait for my family to come in. Miah and Gran shuffle in, Miah is clearly trying to be strong, and Gran is already there. "Be strong, darling. Be strong and never lose yourself, not even in that hell, and your parents will be proud."

Miah is silent, and she holds me until the Peacekeepers drag them out the door, and they drag me onto the train.

**Derek POV**

As I am herded into the furnished room, I tell the Peacekeepers to not allow anyone in. I know that it would be too hard on Krissy, the only visitor I would have, so instead I write her a letter:

_Krissy,_

_I love you and so did Mom and Dad. I don't want to die in these Games, but if I do, remember this: be strong. No matter what life puts you through, you be strong. Lots of love:_

_Derek_

_P.S. If I get back, I expect less grumpy mornings_

I give the letter to a Peacekeeper and walk onto the train, a day away from the Capitol.


	5. District 4 Reaping

**Hey guys! Sorry that it's been so long since I've updated but here is the District Four Reaping! I'll try and get some more chapters in faster now that I'm out of school (yay!). Okay, here it is:**

**Emma POV**

"Ugh, Mom, can I _please _sleep a little bit longer?" My brother, Arin, mumbles in his sleep.

"It's not Mom lazy. Get up!" I throw a pillow at him playfully. Arin throws his hands in front of his face.

"Fine, fine, I'll get up. Don't have to attack me..." he mumbles under his breath as he gets out of his bed. "What? You're already dressed?" He asks, eyeing my favorite pale blue dress, the exact color of my eyes. "Good Lord, you're fast."

"Yup and you better be if you want us to wait for you to go to the Reaping... bye!" I close the door on my fourteen-year-old brother's complaints. "I got him up, Ma!" I yell as I trot down the stairs. The back door is open, and the salted air of District Four wafts into the kitchen, mingling with the smell of fish omelets and fresh-squeezed orange juice.

"Well, then where is he?" Ma asks, scanning the stairs.

"I told him to hurry up and change or else we would leave without him."

"And you don't have the slightest doubt that he will change and _not _go back to sleep?" My ma asks, raising one blonde eyebrow.

"I'll go check," I say, bounding up the stairs. I throw open the door to his room to find... Arin asleep on his bed, only half dressed. I pick up the shirt that is lying on the floor, the one that he will put on, and hit him across his back with it.

"Ow," he exclaims, awake again. "What was that for?" I giggle.

"Just a taste of what the Peacekeepers are gonna give you if you don't wake up!" I bound down the stairs again and scarf down my delicious salmon omelet. After about five minutes, Arin _finally _comes down, still looking scruffy, but presentable enough nonetheless.

"Let's go, shall we," Pa says, taking Ma's hand as Arin and I race to the square. But underneath all the happiness, there is a nagging feeling that just won't go away.

**Marcus POV**

I twist the fish hook in my ear as I wait for my little siblings to get ready. Arianna, who is only seven, cares a lot about her appearance, even though she's not even old enough to be Reaped. Griffin, who's twelve, just dresses in the same shirt that he wears every day, a wrinkled green one. It drives our mother, Lilia, insane, but she knows that no matter how much candy you give him or threats you throw at him, you'll never get him out of his favorite green shirt. He even says that it brings him good luck.

"Kids! Breakfast!" My mother sets out some of our china plates, piled high with eggs and salmon. Griffin runs down the stairs in a pair of my old slacks and his lucky shirt, and Ari prances down looking, in my eyes, ridiculous in a pink dress, black shoes, a tiara, and some of my mother's lipstick sloppily painted on her lips. Mom, not noticing Arianna's insane getup, pours two glasses of milk, setting them in front of the youngest Livelys. "Marcus, what do you want to drink?" She asks, glancing over her shoulder at me.

"Just O.J., Mom." I reply.

My mom puts down the glass of orange juice on my place mat and takes her seat across from my father's seat at the table. Of course, my father is working on his boat until it is absolutely necessary for him to come. Our small fishing boat, the _S.S. Ena Marie_, is nothing compared to the other fishing boats, but it gets us good money. My mother always jokes around about my father being gone a lot, but we all know that it secretly affects her.

"Mooo-oom! I _hate _milk!" Arianna whines, wrinkling her nose at the glass in front of her.

"Arianna, kids in District Twelve would give anything for that glass of milk. Drink up." That was my mother's favorite comeback, even though none of us knew if it was true or not. Griffin and I shovel our breakfast down, and push our chairs back, causing my mother's head to snap up at the screeching sound. We stand by the door waiting for Ari to finish her breakfast. After what seems like hours, she finally eats the last egg on her plate and we dash to the town square.

"Squirt, you gotta stop wearing that shirt. Even if it is lucky." I laugh and wave my hand in front of my nose.

**Emma POV**

I wait in the line for Sixteens, chatting with the girl next to me, Mallie.

"Can you believe Villa Chappman?" Mallie whispers to me, referring to the crazy District Four escort.

"Is she trying to pay homage to our District with her hair or something?" Villa had dyed her hair aqua with white tips, molded in the shape of a wave. Her skirt was long and sea foam green, flaring out at the ankles like a fish tail. We both giggle, and some girls shoot us dirty looks. The mayor finishes the Treaty of Treason and Villa takes the stage, her molded hair staying eerily stationary as she veers in her tall heels. Steeping over to the podium she greets us all.

"Hello District Four!" She beams a fake smile at us. "The sea looks beautiful today!" Mallie and I snicker at her ignorance. "Let's meet our lovely beautiful girl tribute now, shall we?" Villa wobbles over to the Reaping Ball assigned to the girls. She pulls out a slip of paper and dramatically waves it around in the air. To her it must look perfect and dramtic, but to me and Mallie and the rest of District Four it looks like her hand is having a spasm. Finally, she reads it. "Emma Townsend!"

My blood runs cold. Mallie prods me with her elbow, smiling. In District Four, it's considered a great honor to be Reaped, but I feel like this will be the final time that I will ever step foot in this square again. I stride to the stage, trying desperately to look tough and emotionless. I saw this one girl on the Hunger Games a few years back who looked so tough, all of the tributes, even some of the Careers avoided her. She lost when the boy from One discovered that she couldn't wield a sword to save her life. Literally. Maybe, though, I could use her technique to stay alive at least a couple of days.

Once on the stage, I look straight at the camera and give it my best and most ferocious scowl. I have a feeling, though, that it is really a very bad scowl, because face it, it's me. Up close, Villa and her hair are even grosser. Her pale blue skin is pulled tight around her cheekbones, so she is always laughing. Her tinted aqua lips are overly full and I just _know _that her teeth are fakes. Her eyes are surgically altered to change colors. At the moment, they are as dark as the night. "Okay," she says, flashing the crowd a synthetic smile, and moves onto the boy's Reaping Ball. "Griffin Lively!" She twitters, doing the same dramatic movements with the slip of paper. Suddenly, a cry comes from the line that I left.

"I volunteer!" A handsome boy walks out of the Sixteen line, I had seen him before, at school and on the streets. He was pulling off the tough look much better than I was, his shaggy dark blonde hair hanging on his forehead, almost covering his fair eyebrows, but leaving his eyes open and hostile. His muscles bulged under his shirt, and I immediately knew that he would be competition, he would survive probably at least two weeks longer than I would. Sadly. "My name is Marcus Lively." Villa looks impressed.

"District Four! I Give you your tributes: Emma Townsend and Marcus Lively!" Of course everyone cheers, this is a _great _honor. Just not to me.

**Marcus POV**

We are ushered into the huge Justice Building. I have never actually been inside, but they sure know how to decorate. Antique furniture is everywhere, and exotic rugs blanket the floor. The Peacekeepers lead me and Emma (that's her name, right?) through many hallways and rooms inside the maze that is the building. Finally, our journey comes to an end as we enter a hallway lined with plastic chairs, with two doors across the hallway from each other. One Peacekeeper pushes me into the room on the right, and Emma to the one on the right. I guess that the chairs in the hallway are filling up, because I hear the sounds of walking in the hallway. A minute later, my mother walks in, led by Ari and Griffin. Ari for once is silent, and she sits on Mom's lap as Griffin hugs me and cries onto my shoulder. "Why'd ya do it? Why?" Griffin shrieks over and over again, crying.

"So that you can go home and live."

After my comment, Griffin stays silent and settles for crying harder. I twist the hook in my ear as my mother and siblings are ushered roughly out by the Peacekeepers. "Where's Dad?" I hurriedly yell to my mother.

"Work," she yells back, her voice cracking a little bit. My blood rushes to my face in anger as the door closes. I set my jaw, trying to hold in the anger, but I fail. I kick the coffee table and the delicate vase shatters on the floor. I am heading to my dang death and my father can't even take enough time off to say goodbye? I don't wait for the Peacekeeper to usher me out, I stomp onto the train. I want to get as far away as possible from my father. Even if it means dying.

**Emma POV**

"You'll do great, sis." Arin looks me straight in my watery eyes. I see myself reflected in him. We have the same sky blue eyes, the same curly brown hair.

"Listen honey," my mother looks at me sadly. "I want you to come back as soon as you can, just use this as an anchor, okay?" Ma moves her blonde hair to the side and unhooks the beautiful silver chain that she always wears from her skinny neck. She twirls her finger, beckoning me to turn, and she fastens it on my pale neck. I finger the delicate chain, the feeling was smooth and silky against my fingers.

"I love you!" I scream as a pair of Peacekeepers lead my family out of the room, and leading Mallie in. She is beaming.

_Dear God, why is she smiling so big?_

"You are _so lucky!_" Mallie trills, "I wish I was you!"

"Really now, do you? You wish that you just saw your mother in little brother in tears, knowing that they will never _ever _see you again, and you know that you are right. You wish that your mother just gave you her most prized possession without a hesitation, because she figured that it'll just be delivered with the body." I scream at my 'friend', and she looks taken aback, her eyes red with tears and her eyebrows knit together. "You wish that your best friend was happy for you and accepts the fact that you will die. You are _just _like them." I dash out of the door, leaving Mallie confused and dazed in the room. I sprint towards the general direction of the train.

_Better off dead than having a monster as a best friend, _I think as the door of the train locks behind me.

**A/N: Okay so this is District Four (1 of my fave districts) Please R&R!**

**Reviews make me write faster... 8)**


	6. District 5 Reaping

**A/N: Here's District Five! I really hope that I got the tributes right. Sorry that Meck doesn't get a lot of time but I promise that he will get more later on! Please R&R! Also I would appreciate some ideas for ways to make writing the Reaping faster (different techniques, etc...) Thanks a bunch! Enjoy District Five:**

**Celsie POV**

I walk into the house after finishing my daily chores. A teenage boy with curly blonde hair runs out to see me, waving excitedly to me when he sees me. I giggle.

"Hey, Cypress," I say, running up to my little brother.

"Hey CiCi!" Cypress yells excitedly. "Dad wants me to tell you that breakfast is ready." As we near the house I can smell the bacon and practically taste the yummy apple juice. I wipe my dirty hands on my khaki pants. I spent the morning washing the animals – yesterday there was a huge storm and _all _of our animals got muddy; especially the bears. My mother was a famous animal trainer here in our district, and my father always says that I inherited the same way with animals that she had before she died. I retie my long scarlet hair into a high ponytail and follow Cypress into our ranch house. Castanea is working over the oven, her long curly hair tied into a knot at the base of her neck. She was frying slices of bacon and flipping some pancakes; looking perfectly calm. She always found her place behind a stove.

"Hi guys, can you get Dad in here, breakfast'll be ready in a few minutes." Cypress leaves and walks into the den, strictly my father's room. He's nice but he can't raise two teenage girls and one teenage boy to save his life. Thank God I'm eighteen now, and old enough to take care of my fourteen-year-old siblings, or they would be in trouble. My mother died while giving birth to Cypress and Castanea, but she left her legacy of animal training to me. When I was eight and our family was in danger of losing our home, I found an old journal of my mother's filled with tips and instructions on training animals for the Capitol, and we started our business up right away, with me as the head trainer. I've attempted to teach Castanea and Cypress how to train also, so that I could have a little help, but Castanea practically failed in every way, preferring to stay in the home and act as our mother. Cypress caught on faster, but he would never be able to do it on his own.

"Hey princess," my dad says, kissing my forehead. I've always hated him calling me that, but I let him because my mother is dead.

"Hey Dad," I say. His wavy blonde hair is sticking to his forehead, and his big blue eyes mirror my little siblings'. Everyone who has never met my mother cannot believe that this is my family because I look so different with my huge chocolate brown eyes and long red hair; an almost mirror image of my dead mom. The small T.V. on the kitchen counter is playing back the Reapings from District One; the time is different so where they are the Reaping has already started. A gorgeous girl with long pin-straight platinum blonde hair steps onto the stage, her long legs almost indecently exposed as she walks. Once she takes her spot next to the District escort, she gives the camera a sultry stare with incredibly green eyes. Cypress is practically drooling. I thunk him on the back of the head with my hand. Castanea tries not to laugh too hard as she pours our drinks.

"So," Cypress begins, rubbing the back of his head, "how're the tigers?" Cypress loves talking about our tigers.

"Good." We watch the District One Reaping in silence, and once that is over some footage of the smoldering District Thirteen ruins airs.

I clear my throat. "Well, I better get going. Don't wanna look filthy for the Reaping."

"I'll go upstairs with you, Celsie." Castanea says, "Cy, you and Dad do the dishes, kay?" She doesn't wait for their answer. We walk up the stairs in silence, but once we reach the hallway where our rooms are, Castanea faces me. "You know, Dad doesn't talk to you much because you're just like Mom was, or so I'm told she was. Don't let it get to you." Castanea gently touches my elbow and smoothes a strand of her light blonde hair behind her ear. I nod silently and go into my room, gently closing the door. Sometimes it bugs me how my fourteen-year-old sister can be so much more perceptive than I can be. I brush that thought out of my mind and open the doors of my closet, selecting a soft pink one that used to be my mother's favorite. Paired with some old white sandals I could be her twin sister. I brush my hair and wash off my face and arms, put on the silver wolf pendant that used to belong to my mother. I love our wolves, and apparently my mother did too. I walk out of my room and down the hallway. My father and brother always wear the same clothes that they put on in the morning, while Castanea and I change from our everyday clothes. When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I see that the men of the family have already left to go to the Reaping, they never like waiting for the girls to get ready. I sit at the lonely kitchen table, waiting for my sister to arrive.

"Hey CiCi." I look up to see Castanea at the foot of the stairs, looking practically like an angel in a white dress with her white-blonde hair in a bun, with a pair of white heels that belonged to my mother. "Let's go." She offers out her arm.

**Meck POV**

"Meck!" A shrill voice snaps me out of my dream.

"Coming Auntie!" I yell back at her. My aunt can't come upstairs and wake me up because she has to be pushed around in a wheelchair. She lost her ability to walk in the same animal accident that killed my parents. District Five is famous for our animal training methods, and occasionally the Peacekeepers overlook the fact that we hold secret zoos in people's homes and backyards. One year, my parents went to one of these zoos and an animal mauled them. They were killed instantly, but my aunt was able to be saved, she just lost her legs. I quickly throw on an old dress shirt and a pair of jeans, wet my short brown hair so it looks like I was in the shower or something, and rush downstairs. Auntie is wheeling herself around the kitchen, trying to reach some jars on the shelves. I walk over to the cabinet and grab all of the jars that she needs to make breakfast. "Here Auntie."

"Thanks." My aunt's stern features barely softened, only when she was around me. I don't even think I've ever heard her laugh before. Or smile, for that matter. As my aunt finishes up pouring our cereal and spreading jam on our toast, I set the table with two placemats and two glasses full of cold milk. My aunt and I eat in silence, only commenting on each other's outfits or on the District One Reaping. Finally, we finish our meal and head to the town square, where my aunt's nurse meets her and wheels her away. I stand with the other twelve-year-olds, all of them towering over me and pretending that I am not there. I don't mind the silence, actually. It makes it so much easier to not hurt people.

Our mayor reads the Treaty of Treason and our escort, Hunter, walks onto the stage, paying homage to our district with tattooed zebra stripes and a Mohawk. "Time for the ladies, District Five!" He yells after his standard greeting. Hunter reaches into the huge Reaping Ball and pulls out a ragged piece of paper. "And our lovely lady tribute is … Celsie Crete!" Hunter says this with so much enthusiasm that I feel like giggling. A small girl with wavy red hair walks up to the stage from the Eighteen line. I had seen her around, her mother was the greatest animal trainer in District Five. Of course, the trait was passed on. Everyone calls Celsie the "beast whisperer." After Celsie gets up to the stage, Hunter goes over to the boy's Reaping Ball. He pulls out a small slip of paper and reads it aloud.

My blood goes cold as my name resonates from Hunter's freakish lips.

I walk stiffly up to the stage and closer to the beast whisperer and Hunter the Zebra. His alternating stripes of white and black add to the growing nausea I feel in the pit of my stomach. After Celsie and I shake hands and she smiles kindly at me a couple of Peacekeepers herd us into the Justice Building where we are given separate rooms to receive our family members and our friends.

Auntie rolls in with her nurse, Willa, behind her. And she gets straight to business, not wanting to waste visiting time. Unexpectedly, she pulls me onto her lap and hugs me, tears gathering in her eyes. "You keep your honor boy, you hear me?" Auntie says urgently. I nod, afraid to leave my aunt's question unanswered. Willa is crying now too. Suddenly, Auntie reaches out and picks her bag up off of the floor and digs around in it for a while, mumbling to herself. "Ah, here we go…" she says to herself, pulling out a small bag. Auntie extends her wrinkly hand and I take the bag from her, opening it slowly. Inside rests a silver pin in the shape of a bird in flight. Birds are my favorite animal. "I thought that you would like it, Meck." My aunt says awkwardly.

"I love you, Auntie." I declare, and I see my aunt smile for the first time.

**Celsie POV**

I'm still in shock by the time that my family comes in. _How was I called? _I think. _How? _

"CiCi, get home soon, okay?" Cypress says. "Okay?" He gently shakes my shoulder and I snap out of it.

"I will, Cy. Promise. Besides, I can't trust you with the animals forever." I grin.

"Celsie, I don't know her, but I am sure that Mom would be proud." Castanea says. My father's face turns hard as he tries not to cry.

"Thanks Cassie."

My father is crying again, and I unhook the silver wolf pendant from my neck and begin to give it to my father; opening my palm. It's one of the only things that my mother held dear that we still have. Surprisingly, my father closes my fingers around the necklace. "Dad, I-"

"Keep it. It's yours." Tears spring to my eyes as I pull my father into a hug, and soon my siblings join in. I regret the moment when I have to let go.


	7. Reapings Recap

**A/N: Thanks for your tributes guys! Also, thanks to Twirlgirl821 for the idea to do the Reapings like this; it went by a lot faster. Here are all of the tributes so far and now you can sponsor tributes. I'll try to have another chapter up soon. Keep reading! R&R!**

**Kesha POV**

Stefani follows me as I trot out of the house. I can't stand Dev, my mother's sleaze-bag of a boyfriend. Of course, she's a sleaze-bag too, so they're perfect for each other. "Kesha! Kesha! Wait up!" Stefani is the only full sibling out of the four that I have, and she's the only one that I can stand.

"I don't wanna talk about this, Stef." This morning before my mother woke up, Dev tried to feel me up in his drunken stupor. I had never felt more violated and humiliated in my life. When I slapped him, he called me just about every vile name in the dictionary and not in the dictionary. "_I hate them!_"

"Kesh, he was just drunk. Please come back!" Stefani pleads, grabbing my thin wrist. "Don't run away!"

"Stef, I'm just going to the Reaping. Come with me?" I say, tugging on my filthy secondhand shirt. I never dress up for the Reaping. In a year though, it'll be my last Reaping and I'll be safe forever.

"Fine. But don't leave me alone with them later, Kesha!" Stefani begs me, linking her arm through mine. My fifteen-year-old sister is my best and only friend. And off we go, to the Reaping.

**Ax POV**

"Hey Ma," I say, walking into the tiny room that serves as our main room.

"Hey Ax," my mother replies, her dark graying hair is pulled into a messy bun. Her tired hands are running over a picture of my dead father. I awkwardly run my fingers through my spiky short hair. I am tall for my age, and I have slight muscles from the school sports. "How'd you sleep?"

I didn't want to tell her that I had another dream about Dad so I just lie and say: "Good."

My mother clears her throat. "Well, that's good then. Are you ready for the Reaping?" Our small family never has breakfast because we can't afford it. My mother looks at me with her tired grey eyes and sadly smiles. I take her arm and we head off to the square.

When we get to the town square, we are a little bit late. Mayor Redding is addressing the crowd and reading the Treaty of Treason. Trill Sari, our district escort, is strutting onstage in at least six-inch high heels. Once the mayor steps down from the rotting podium, Trill positions herself behind the microphone and greets our dirt-poor district. "Hello District Twelve! Happy Hunger Games! Let's start with the girl tribute." Trill walks over to the Reaping Ball on her right. "Kesha Goldenrod!" She twitters in an annoying soprano voice. A morbidly thin girl with dishwater blonde hair and paler blonde highlights walks up to the stage from the Seventeen line. She's about 5'4" or 5'5" and she looks pretty breakable. But as my mom always says, don't judge a book by it's cover; no matter how fragile that cover may be, in Kesha's case. A sound of utter agony emanates from the Fifteen line. Kesha will be missed. Trill smiles scarily at the girl tribute and proceeds to the other Reaping Ball. She pulls out another slip of paper. "Ax Krillenhall!" She yells excitedly. My blood freezes. I am going to die.

**Kesha POV**

I don't allow anyone to visit me, because I know that my mother, Dev, and all of the love-children will come with Stef. Instead, I stalk onto the train and sit down, waiting for Ax, my district partner, to join me. I think about what happened at the Reaping. Soon, Ax joins me. He must not have had many visitors. Or any, for that matter. "Hey," I say.

"Hey," the huge sixteen-year-old replies. "No visitors?" I shake my head. "My ma came in. Didn't say anything though, just cried. A lot." Ax laughs bitterly. I stay silent and stare straight ahead. _I can't make friends, I'm going to have to kill him soon, so I can't make friends. _I tell myself over and over again. Because, face it, it's hard to resist liking this guy. Then, our mentor, Marley, comes in. Marley is the only victor since the 74th Annual Games. She is young, she won about two years ago and is still eligible to be Reaped, at age eighteen. She is beautiful, with silky black hair and deep blue eyes. Her looks alone might have kept her alive, but she is a demon with a sword, and no one saw it coming.

"Hello, you two," she says, in a surprisingly raspy voice. "Now, you look pretty strong, so you can probably handle hand-to-hand combat pretty well, and you look very agile and quick on your feet, which will definitely help you in the arena." She observes us. "But of course, neither of those will be enough to win the Games, so let's get ahead of the other tributes and watch the Reapings, shall we?" Marley gives us a big smile and slips in a tape. The huge plasma screen in front of us lights up with color as we see the town square of District One. Marley fast forwards through the Mayor's speech and the escort's greeting. _The District escort paces to the girls' Reaping Ball and pulls out a slip of paper. _

_"Glamor Zon!" At the escort's words a sultry woman with long platinum blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes pads up to the stage from the Eighteen line with incredibly long legs and a willowy body. Marley pauses the tape when Glamor steps onto the stage, giving us a full-view of the girl. _

"Now," Marley turns to us, "what do you think about her?"

I look over at Ax, expecting him to answer, but he is too busy ogling at the tribute. Guess I have to. "Uh, she has long legs, so she might be able to run fast, but they don't look very muscly. But with a face like that, sponsors will line up for her." Marley nods at me, looking impressed.

"Very good, Kesha. Ax, anything to add?" Marley turns to Ax. She has to repeat her question before Ax hears her.

"Oh, uh, I think that Kesha got it." Ax says. I roll my eyes, he probably didn't even hear what I said. Marley plays it again.

_The district escort goes to the boys' Reaping Ball and pulls out another slip of paper. "Carbon Night!" A small boy around fourteen with dark brown hair and bright green eyes goes to stand next to Glamor. By the way he's looking at her, I can tell that she's his crush. _Again, Marley pauses it.

"How 'bout Carbon?" Marley asks. Ax answers this time.

"He's small and has virtually no muscles, so he won't make it out of a hand-to-hand, but he's probably good at hiding and climbing. And he has blisters between his thumb and index finger so he probably is decent at throwing knives." I stare at Ax, feeling my jaw drop. He is more perceptive than I thought humanly possible.

"Wow, excellent Ax! I am very impressed!" Marley says, her jaw dropping open like mine. "Are you two ready to move on to District Two?"

_Marley fast forwards again and another escort, this time a man reads aloud the tribute: "Kina Dawson!" A tall and lanky sixteen year old starts the procession up to the stage when a voice is heard from the Eighteen line. _

_"I volunteer!" A tall girl with long, curly, dark brown hair goes to stage in the place of Kina Dawson. "My name is Ebony Darknight and I volunteer as tribute."_ The tape freezes.

"Well since she volunteered, she must have been training for years. Her legs look very muscular and long, so she can run, and she may be good at hand-to-hand combat. She's also pretty, so she'll most likely get sponsors." I blurt out, almost competing with Ax for who would answer first. The tape plays again.

_"Ri-" The escort begins, but is cut off by a hissing voice coming from the Sixteen group._

_"My name is Erik Roberts and I volunteer as tribute." A buff boy with chin-length oily black hair and squinted mint green eyes steps onto the stage. He reminds me uncannily of a snake, even by his voice; he holds out his "s"'s._

"What about him?"

I answer again. "Well, he is very strong, so we don't want to be caught without a weapon around him, and he has probably trained for years, like Ebony. He probably also knows how to use many weapons, too. I think that Ax and I should steer clear of this guy."

"Good, I would give you the same advice. Onto the next," Marley skips to District Three.

_The escort calls Mila Keeley to come up, and a pretty fourteen-year-old girl with long chocolate brown locks and unusual brown and green eyes steps next to the escort. She looked to be very breakable, and I doubted that she would last long in these Games. She didn't look like she particularly had any training in anything, and I could tell that Ax couldn't see any blisters or other signs, so she was practically harmless. Next, the escort calls up a boy named Derek Labre. He is tall and handsome, with black hair, pale skin, and deep blue eyes. _"What about him, guys?" Marley asks.

"He has those blisters, so he might be good at knife-throwing and swordplay, and he's probably good with explosives, since he's from District Three. He probably won't get into the Career pack though, so he might not be exposed to the materials he would need to make a bomb or something." Ax informs us. Next is District Four; fishing.

_"Emma Townsend!" An escort with tall hair molded like a wave reads a piece of paper. A pretty young girl with delicate features, brown hair, and pale blue eyes steps onto the stage. _

"So?" Marley prods.

"Emma has a muscular body, so she's physically strong, and she's probably a good swimmer and works wonders with a trident since she's from Four." I conclude. Marley nods. Ax presses play on the T.V. screen and the Reaping continues.

_"Griffin Lively!" Suddenly a boy yells that he will volunteer. _

_"My name is Marcus Lively and I volunteer as tribute." The boy, Marcus, is very tall and handsome; with dark blonde hair and piercing sky blue eyes. He's very muscular and he would probably make it out of a fight with Erik Roberts not fatally injured._

I tell Marley that he would probably make it out of a fight with Erik. She agrees thoughtfully. Ax also agrees.

**Ax POV**

Marley, the most gorgeous mentor _ever_, plays the District Five Reaping for us. Kesha is watching the screen intently. I decide that she is pretty. Marley catches my eye and sends me mental messages to look back at the screen. I sigh and look back at the screen.

_"Celsie Crete!" A pretty girl with long wavy red hair and huge brown doe-eyes walks to the stage. She has small muscles and looks more like a runner than a fighter, but in the Games you never know what people hide up their sleeves. The screen freezes, and then plays again after Marley asks us for our observation. Then the escort calls the name of a young boy with short brown hair named Meck Silkey. Meck basically looked like he was no good at anything, and he would not last long, most likely._

Next came District Six: a very tall girl with slender muscles and a strong nose, Tristie Perkins is her name; and a short slim boy named Lare Corollo. After that is District Seven, where a teeny fourteen-year-old named Avella Hightree and a tall boy named Corin Hightree are Reaped; they are apparently brother and sister. In District Eight there is a handsome man named Ashur and an average looking girl with pudgy cheeks named Annora Carlton. In Nine: a skinny girl named Iota Nightshade with freaky long nails and a tall muscular boy named Colt. From District Ten: a sultry girl with long bronze hair and full lips named Evi Trint and her partner, a _very _average boy named Drew Mutsaka. The tributes from Eleven: Kiki Tavela with brown hair and eyes and a nose clearly broken many times. Then there is us, looking scared to death up there.

_Oh great, _I think, _the scaredy-cat tributes._

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**Remeber: reviews make the world go round 8D**


	8. Opening Ceremony

**Sorry for how long it took me to update! I was on vacation and we didn't bring the computer. So, without further ado, here is the chariot ride chapter:**

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**Glamor POV (D1)**

I know I look hot. I mean, I guess I always do, but right now I am shining. Literally. My two annoying stylists have put me in a jumpsuit thing covered in purple gemstones that make it look almost like scales. They also covered me in silver glitter from head-to-toe. The jumpsuit has only one shoulder on the right side, and on that side a large slit in the shape of a triangle exposes my glittering silver belly. My hair is pulled back in an almost messy bun at the top of my head, and the bun is spangled with purple gemstones. Everyone is going to be captivated by me. I'll have sponsors lining up. "You know, for being slightly annoying, you two are genius." I say, smiling a dazzling pearly smile to Desdemona and Hero, my stylists. Desdemona, the dumber one, looks unsure of whether to be insulted or happy. Hero takes on a happy expression.

"Thanks!" He trills. "You and Carbon will look dazzling!" Hero and Desdemona do one last touch-up: extra glitter, adding some more gemstone clips to my bun. Soon, my prep team and I are ready to make an entrance. Desdemona takes my arm because I can't see all that well with my silver glittery contacts.

"Here we go, you'll be the prettiest tribute there!" _And the deadliest, _I internally add to Desdemona's statement. I see Hero push the button for the first floor of the Training Center with his strange magenta finger and the elevator drops down and we see the floors woosh in front of us. Adrenaline courses through me. I love this elevator. I wish Dad had one, it would be so awesome. The elevator glides to a smooth stop and lets out a delicate ding announcing that we have come to a stop. As the elevator door opens Desdemona takes my elbow again and leads me to the stables where our chariot waits. The chariot is made with real silver and the snow-white horses tethered to the chariot are boasting harnesses made out of the same purple gemstones that make up my suit.

"Where is that other kid?" I ask Hero, scanning the stables for my wimpy district partner. _He's got nerve! Making me look stupid waiting for him in front of all of Panem! _"He's going to be late!" I grit my teeth. All the other tributes are here. I groan in frustration.

"Just relax, Glam. When you scrunch your eyebrows together it wrinkles the glitter. Take yoga breaths. In…now out…" Hero has now closed his magenta eyelids and is practicing his deep-breathing. _What the heck, I have nothing to lose? _I have gone through four sets of yoga breaths when Carbon _finally _shows. He climbs into the chariot wordlessly.

"You're late." I spit out through my silver glittery lips. I study Carbon's outfit. He is shirtless, with tight spandex pants made out of the same material as my jumpsuit. His chest was covered in silver glitter, and they outlined the places where his muscles should be, because I know that he has none. Carbon shrugs, not looking at me, keeping the calm expression. I groan again and clench my fists. He infuriates me sometimes.

Hero tells us what to do: "Glam, try not to kill Carbon. You know, smiling wouldn't be a bad idea either. Carbon, try to look tough." I involuntarily snort. Hero and Desdemona scold me with their eyes. An Avox stable hand slaps one of the horses on the rear-end and the horses canter off. As we gallop through the rainbow streets of the Capitol I smile and wave, and the Capitol citizens scream for me. I blow them kisses, and their screams maximize to a deafening roar. I have the Capitol melting in the palm of my silver hand. And that's just the way I like it.

**Marcus POV (D4)**

I wince in pain as Frederic ruthlessly pulls out all of the hair on my body. "Don't worry, Marcus, you will look great!" Frederic pours another round of scalding hot wax on my chest, waits about a minute, and yanks it off with his four-inch long lavender nails. Weren't fake nails only for girls? Well, I guess heels are only for girls too, but that doesn't stop Frederic. My prep team, Velia, Crimson, and Lottie, all bustle around Frederic, hanging on to his every word. They cut the hair he says to cut, exfoliate (whatever the heck that means) the skin he says to exfoliate. It's almost funny, how doting they are to him. But I know that if I laugh I'll mess up something or other and it'll just make the torture last longer, so I keep my mouth shut. Finally, after about an hour of prepping, I'm presentable in Capitol terms. I look in the mirror and groan.

My hair is spiked up in the way that I could never get it and I am a fishing net. Seriously. I am in what may be the most ridiculous and overused costumes of the century. I groan again; louder this time. "You look _fantastic!_" Frederic gushes. The prep team hurriedly comes up with more adjectives to add to that.

"Amazing!" Lottie chirps.

"Brilliant!" Velia follows suit.

"Uhh…" Crimson scrunches his bright red eyebrows, trying to think of a bigger word than the other two. He snaps his fingers. "Stupidefying!"

I laugh so hard I have to clutch my stomach. Frederic looks disapproving, Velia and Lottie look like they don't really care, and Crimson looks utterly confused. Cleary, he was trying to say stupefying or something. Nevertheless, it was hilarious. And I needed to find something to laugh about since I was about to be shown off to the Capitol like a showpony and then be sent to my eminent death.

"That's enough, lets go or we'll be late!" Frederic says, and the prep team grabs my arms and tugs me toward the elevator; Crimson still looking confused. I let out one last laugh and the elevator descends to the ground floor. A small dinging sound is let out as we reach the ground floor. My prep team proceeds to drag me over to the stables where our chariot and Emma are waiting. I can see Emma from yards away, she must be wearing five-inch tall heels or something. As we get closer, I can see that her outfit is a heck of a lot better than mine that supposedly matches.

She is wearing a dress made out of aqua material over her chest and private area, and covered with an aqua net leaving everything else barely covered. The net gets thicker towards the bottom, and is swirled around at her feet. Her chestnut brown hair is piled high on the top of her head and dotted with seashells. Two brown ringlets hang on either side of her face. She looks striking. I have the aqua material around my privates too, but the net is draped over my shoulder like a toga. It is horrible! If anyone from the Capitol cheers as we go by, it'll be because of Emma. I climb into the chariot, greet Emma with a flustered look on my face as she stares at me with her piercing blue eyes, and look ahead.

_Here goes nothing, _I think as the chariot races off.

**Annora POV (D8)**

I look in the mirror at my outfit. Or should I say _outfits_. I have a flashback to one of my favorite books as a child, _The Patchwork Girl of Oz_. My mother used to read aloud to me the adventures of the Patchwork Girl, a doll brought to life made out of a quilt with many different colors. I guess my stylists are going for the whole Patchwork Girl look today. At least they have gotten rid of my acne scars…

My dress is made out of different patches of colors, reaching all the way down to the ground. Every time I move in the slightest, the colors flash and swirl around me. It's both mesmerizing and horrific at the same time. My long brown hair has been cut in such a way to make my face look thinner and longer. My eyebrows are shaped to the point of almost disappearing from my face altogether. My olive skin has been smeared with multicolored glitter and my eyelids have become rainbows. At least my big brown eyes have been left alone. _Aster… _I think holding back tears. _Aster has my big brown eyes._ I have a hard time thinking about my baby daughter anyways, but usually its happy thoughts. Now, it's the thought that I will never see my precious two-year-old again. My eyes tear up some more. My stylist, Ladybug, catches this and turns on me in disapproval. "Stop wallowing!" She shrieks. "Your makeup isn't waterproof!" She pinches my arm for good measure and drags me down to the ground floor. I have been given a witch for a stylist.

Downstairs, the multicolored chariot is waiting with Ashur, my handsome district partner sporting the same color that I have. His is _a lot _more showy than mine is. He's practically naked! Bright patches of varying sizes polka-dot his body, larger ones strategically covering all of the things that should be covered. His stubble hasn't been shaved off but his previously long hair is cut in a style that causes it to hang slightly in his face. Two or three years ago I would've been tempted by him, but Bentley has ruined my life. I will never _ever _be a foolish boy-crazy teenager again. And it's all because of Bentley. The thought in my head as we dash through the rainbow streets is that everything is Bentley's fault. _Everything_.

**Kesha POV (D12)**

I smile at myself in the mirror. I look tough. All of the other stylists look like little wimps with long dresses and nudeness. But what my stylist, Briss, has done, is probably the most brilliant costume yet. Well, besides the "girl on fire" of course, but mine is in a close second. I told her to not even think about putting me in a dress, even though Marley, our mentor, told us that bossing around Capitolites was a very bad idea. Briss was cool about it though, and told me she wouldn't dare think of it. Then she winked at me and brought out my costume.

I am wearing khaki cargo _very _short shorts that ended high-thigh. My tank top is cut barely below my ribs and gives off the appearance of being on fire, though it doesn't light up. Around my newly pierced belly button are flame-colored gemstones. My hair is streaked with red, yellow, and black highlights, and soot covers my face. My small ears have been pierced a least ten times each. Below my short shorts are a sort of stocking thing that is tight around my knees but loosens toward my feet. I am wearing combat boots. I look like someone to not mess with, and this is my best edge yet. I turn around, and despite my tough demeanor, hug a very surprised Briss.

After my public show of gratitude is over, I stomp off toward the elevator. Briss follows, having to trot to keep up with my fast pace. I press the ground floor button, and the elevator exhilaratingly plunges down. A small bell sound announces that we have reached the ground floor. Briss tells me where to go and follows behind me. I fix a scowl on my face and storm off to the stables. I make a right when chariots, horses, and tributes enter my line of sight. My braid swings around my face as I sharply turn. Soon, I reach the last chariot. I hoist myself up and wait for my counterpart.

"Kesha, your scowl is perfect, keep it up." A small ringing sound slightly startles me, and Briss pulls out a small silver thing. "Hey, Lino. Ok… Sure… Ya she's here… ok." Briss slips the thing back in her pocket and tells me that Ax and his stylist are almost here. After another two minutes or so, Ax climbs into the chariot.

"Off we go," I say, letting out a small smile as the soot-black stallions race off.

**President Jennings POV**

"Make sure that the Gamemakers are where they are supposed to be," I hiss to my personal assistant, Jel. Last year, the Gamemakers were way too late and all of the tributes were forced to stay into the stables until we found the Gamemakers. They were drinking, of course. And, of course, we have a brand new Head Gamemaker this year.

"Yes, sir," Jel chirped solemnly. I smooth my wavy yellow hair. Jel calls in for a makeup crew with her fancy earpiece, a gift from yours truly. When the makeup crew finally comes, Jel orders them around. Give my canary yellow hair some more gel, put some more blush on my botox-ed cheeks. Finally I am deemed ready to address my adoring citizens. "Ready to knock them dead, sir?" Jel smiles at me.

"As always, Jel." I step out onto the balcony to see the tributes come before me.

I can hear faint cheering from down the street. When the cheering reaches a crescendo, the tributes from District One pull in front of my balcony. I always like their costumes the best. Covered in silver glitter and gemstones they have probably one of the least original costumes but always seem to pull it off. Another pair of tributes come, apparently dressed up as a doctor and patient. The girl, a tall, beautiful, leggy girl, has her curly chocolate hair pulled into a high ponytail, except for two wisps on either side of her face. Her golden eyes are shining behind black cat-eye glasses. She is wearing a strapless black dress that barely covers her behind. A long doctor's coat is buttoned at her belly button, and he is wearing high black stilettos. The boy's outfit is simple, with blue shorts on, to mimic a patients smock.

The tributes from District Three are next. The tributes are both dressed identically: in black jumpsuits with blue lines running along the whole outfits in no particular pattern, like wires, and several large illuminated circles, looking like they would be buttons or something. The outfits make sense and actually look pretty cool in the night. Four are dressed up as nets. The girl pulls it off but the boy looks awful. I chuckle to myself.

The tributes from District Five pull up next. The girl has long scarlet hair done in a braid to her right side. She is wearing a long dress with multiple animal patterns, it appears as if many miniscule diamonds have been sewn into the stitches. The boy is very small and dressed in a suit that looks like the redhead's dress. The stylists probably decided to do the boy a favor and not show how scrawny he is.

From Six, the District of science geeks as I call it, come a tall, mean looking girl wearing dork glasses and a skimpy dress and lab coat (cheap knockoff of Two's – but the other girl wore it better) and the boy wearing the same thing except for a muscle shirt and a speedo-type thing. _Lame, _I think.

A green chariot with brown horses, the one from District Seven, pulls up. Inside the chariot is a petite teenaged girl wearing a dress made out of leaves. Her skin is painted to make her look a little bit more brown and her curly brown hair is entangled with leaves. The boy is tall and muscular, wearing leaves around his crotch and a leaf headdress. By the way they look similar and how the girl is leaning on the boy, I would say that they are related; even siblings.

From District Eight come what look like a pair of clowns. Not even kidding. The girl is chubby and smiling, trying in vain to win over the crowd. Her eyelids are painted rainbow colors and she has big brown eyes. The boy is ruggedly handsome and daringly uncovered. The Capitol girls are swooning. I look back and even Jel is mesmerized. I set my jaw. He will die. I'll make sure of it.

District Nine's chariot races into the drive. The girl looks like she is going to a fancy party, with a huge fluffy fur coat. Her brown hair is curled and piled on top of her head, and she is holding a bow and arrow. The boy looks like he is supposed to be a deer or something, what with the huge antlers on top of his head. He is painted a nut-brown, and he is wearing brown pants. He looks _absolutely_ ridiculous. By the way he is looking at the girl from Five, though, it looks like there will be some drama this year. My full lips curl slightly.

More cheering ensues from the crowd as the tributes from District Ten arrive. I can see why, the girl is absolutely gorgeous. She is wearing a long floor-length white dress covered in hundreds of different math equations. Her hair, an interesting mix between bronze and blonde, is pulled into a high bun, with a golden pin with the number "10" holding it together. A thick golden belt to match her pin cinches her dress at the waist. The boy is wearing a tuxedo to match hers, with a golden tie.

District Eleven, the agriculture district, pulls next to the District Ten's chariot. The girl is dressed like a field, or something. She is wearing a golden strapless dress, and she comes equipped with her own breeze. I takes a little while for me to notice that her gown is made out of individual strips of fringe that move as if the dress is a field of wheat caught in a breeze. It is breathtaking. The boy is a lot more unoriginal. He is wearing a plaid shirt completely unbuttoned and denim pants. A huge pitchfork is in his hand.

District Twelve comes last. The girl is petite and pretty, with her ashen blonde hair pulled into a high braid and streaked with black, red, and orange. She has on cargo shorts and a midriff. She looks very tough and I wouldn't underestimate her small size. The boy is wearing a muscle top and cargo pants, his raven-black hair streaked with gold. They look very intimidating. But they will probably die, like everyone else but one. Or two, if they are from the same district. I never understood why that rule hasn't been changed yet. It'd be so much more fun if all but one died.

_I love my job_, I think as the cameras are directed on me.

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**Hope you guys liked it! Sorry that not everyone's POV was in it but I thought that we should know what some tributes thought of their costumes. The Prez has a pretty evil mind, huh? He was actually pretty fun to write. So, please review review review! I have decided that I would like to have at least four reviews for each chapter, just so I know how I'm doing or if you like whats happening or if I should change something. Thanks guys! Oh and tell me whose point of view should be next. I hope to have the next chapter updated soon. **

**-Ally**


	9. Elevators

**Hey guys! Here is the next chapter. It's kind of a filler chapter, but I tried to use the POVs of people we haven't heard from before. Hope you like it:**

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**Avella POV (D7)**

"Corin, you know that one of us is probably gonna die, right?" I ask, gulping and tucking a strand of curly hair behind my ear. My eighteen year old brother looks at me, his big green eyes wide with alarm. I immediately feel ashamed for voicing my thoughts.

"Avella, you know that's not true! There is still that rule that two tributes can win if they're from the same district!" Corin pleads with me desperately. "The odds can still be in our favor!"

"Are you even mentally here? The odds _are not_ in our favor! We are siblings in the Hunger Games! Think about how dramatic that has to be: the Capitol citizens are probably saying 'Oh, that chick has to kill her brother soon, let's watch' or 'Hey Corin is going to stab his sister to death, I'm not missing it.' Do you honestly think that they are going to let us both live and let this be the most boring Hunger Games yet? Grow up and stop dreaming, Cor." I snap. Corin turns his face stonily away from mine and again I am flooded with shame. My brother slams the "7" button on the elevator and we fly up toward our floor. When the elevator doors open again my brother storms ahead of me. "Corin, wait!" I scream. Our mentor, Cheri, looks concerned along with our insane escort Bobbi. But Bobbi is now blaming me and Cheri is more sympathetic.

"How could you?" Bobbi shrieks shrilly. "Now you've gone and gotten him all upset!" She lets out a sound of frustration. Cheri, who's twenty-seven and as fierce as she was in the Games, turns on Bobbi and says some things that shouldn't be repeated. Then she comes to me. I am at first afraid that she will yell at me but instead she puts a muscular arm around my shoulder.

"It's okay kid. Sometimes men are just … sensitive. Your brother is having a sensitive moment right now. It'll pass." I look over at her and she gives me a motherly smile, tucking a strand of her cropped blonde hair behind her ear. "Night kid." She gives my shoulder two pats and walks off to her room. Bobbi, humiliated and flustered by Cheri's outburst, has already retired to his room. Corin has disappeared to God knows where. That leaves me alone in the hallway, tears streaming quietly down my face, with only the faint sound of the elevator dinging to keep me company.

**Colt POV (D9)**

"I know you like her." Iota looks over at me as she presses the "9" button on the elevator.

"What are you talking about?" I plaster a confused look on my face, alarmed that she saw through me.

"The girl from Five. I saw you staring at her." Iota smiles at my attempt to hide from her. "You could do worse," she adds encouragingly.

"I just thought that she would make a good ally, is all." I say defensively. Her green eyes smile even when she stops. Finally the doors of the elevator open and I walk hastily out of the elevator. Unfortunately, Iota follows me.

"Just tell me if you like her! You can trust me." She looks at me and forces me to stop by grabbing my elbow. "C'mon Colt, please?" I look at her dark brown hair and innocent green eyes. I really do want to trust her, but I can't trust anyone. These are the Hunger Games, for Pete's sake! _But you know you would trust Celsie…_ An annoying little voice in my head says.

"I don't have to tell you anything, and I don't have to trust you," I snap, leaving a confused and possibly slightly angry Iota looking at me.

"Whatever," Iota snaps. "See you later then." With that Iota walked to her room. _Great, you big dolt. You went and POed your district partner._ I walk into my own room and flop onto the huge bed, shedding my ridiculous deer horns. I flip on the T.V., hoping to distract myself from Celsie and Iota. The only thing on is some stupid Capitol soap opera about a plastic surgeon falling in love with his best customer and she cheats on him with his biggest rival.

_"You don't understand, Chaz! Nothing happened between us," A woman with vibrant red hair, dyed pale skin, and orange eyes pleads._

_"How can I ever trust you again, Lirra?" A handsome doctor with a Roman nose, slightly yellow skin, and orange hair says, looking Lirra straight in the eyes. Lirra's orange eyes fill with tears and she runs out of the room crying. Chaz the Doctor looks at the camera above him and sinks to his knees. "WHAT HAVE I DONE?" He yells with a phony voice._

"Lame," I say and turn off the T.V., heading to the bathroom. I peel off the rest of my deer costume and step into the shower. One portion of the wall was covered in buttons, all saying something different: warm, cold, hot, rose, floral, scent, wax, exfoliate, etc. I press random buttons and am attacked with a sticky purple substance, hot wax, and scalding water. I hurriedly turn the shower off and press the warm button. A pleasantly warm stream of water shoots through the nozzle. When I step out, I see a silver plate on the counter. "Where's the blow dryer?" I think to myself, unconsciously placing my hand on the plate. Instantly, I feel a sense of electricity rush through my body. Looking down in surprise, I see that my whole body is dried and my hair combed.

_Knock! Knock! Knock! _My head snaps up as someone knocks on my door. I throw on a robe and open the door a little bit. It's my mentor, Grey.

"Dinner's ready, Colt." Grey simply says, walking back through the hallway. I throw on a pair of khaki pants and a blue t-shirt, the first clothes I grabbed, and race down the hallway into the dining room. Iota is sitting there in a green sundress and Grey is sitting across from her. Her own mentor, Artemis, is sitting beside her. Our escort, JoJo, is sitting at the head of the table. I take the seat next to Grey and flash a look at Iota. She meets my eyes and I silently tell her that I'm sorry. She looks away and nods, just a miniscule little nod. But it's a nod of forgiveness. And assent to being allies.

**Drew POV (D10)**

I walk into the elevator, following Evi, my district partner. Everyone cheered when we raced by, and I know it wasn't for me. Average Drew, the fifteen-year-old who would go nowhere but the average District Ten job: crunching numbers. Average Drew, who would never get any grades at school except for the average ones. Average Drew, who would never get any girls to like him except for the average ones. But on the other hand, here was Evi Trint, anything _but _average. I decided that I want her to win. I voice this thought to her as I press the "10" button.

"What about you, partner? We're in this together, remember?" On the train, Evi had announced to me that she wanted to be allies. I thought she was crazy but I agreed anyways. I would last longer with Evi.

"Well, I still want you to win. If you get home, you can do great things, things that you wouldn't be able to do if you die because I hold you back." I give her a pointed look.

"Look we're not even in the Games yet. You can't think that way until we are in the arena." Evi thinks for a minute. "You still won't be able to think that way in the arena anyways." The elevator door open and Evi and I walk out together, I match my pace with hers. I feel good that she's my ally. Safer. "Well, partner, I don't know about you, but I'm going to change." Evi breaks off of her course down the hallway and into the bedroom assigned to her. I hear the bathroom door close and the shower turn on. Sighing, I go into my own room and turn on my own shower, shedding my white tux. _Average Drew, Average Drew, Average Drew…_ That thought repeating in my mind as I let the warm water engulf me.

**Kiki POV (D11)**

"Why'd ya do it?" Kin asks. I turn my dark brown eyes to his light brown ones.

"What?" I ask, pushing the "11" button in the elevator with my tanned finger.

"Volunteer for that girl. Who was she, anyway?" Kin asks, looking genuinely curious. A stab of pain cuts into my heart. I gulp.

"My sister. She is my sister." I admit, gulping down a batch of tears.

"I thought you said that you were alone in the world," Kin says. One time, when I was ten, Kin's mother came up to me sympathetically, tugging along a twelve-year-old Kin. She asked me where my family was, and I replied that I was alone in the world. It was basically true; I had been living alone on the streets for three years.

"I am. But I have a family, it's not like they died or anything." Kin looks genuinely confused. "I ran away. I was seven." By now the doors are open and I am in the hallway, speedwalking away from Kin and his questions.

"I'm sorry if I upset you!" Kin hollers at me. But it's too late. His questions have already sent memories from my torn childhood reeling around my head. I have to lie down or I will have a breakdown or something. I run into the room with my name on a placard on the door. I fly onto the bed and face my past.

_"Daddy! Please help me!" A little girl, paper thin with dull brown hair and dark brown eyes, cries to a tall, dark-haired man. He turns to look at her with the same dark brown hair that she has. She is trying to pull two large boxes of diapers into the house with her skinny arms. _

_"Kiki, what have I told you, Daddy is a busy man. I work everyday in the fields and I get very tired. Now bring those boxes in and shut the door. Daddy's cold." The man sits into a worn leather chair and cracks open a beer. _

_"But Daddy, I work in the fields too! I work longer than you do!" The little girl pleads._

_"Kiki, shut up and bring those boxes in!" By now the man is standing and his eyes are flaming, the girl's eyes are too. A littler girl, about five, with black hair and blue eyes has wandered down the stairs, holding a teddy bear. _

_"No! I wish I didn't even know you!" The little girl with the boxes screams and sprints away. The man pulls a shotgun off of the mantle and shoots at the ground where the little girl ran. _

_"Good riddance!" The man shouts and slams the door shut. He turns and notices the black-haired girl, her blue eyes wide, huddled by the stairs. "Get up to bed you worthless girl!" He screams._

_**Three years later**_

_A girl with brown hair and eyes sits huddled in the stoop of an abandoned shop, wearing tattered clothes and hiding from the Peacekeepers. A tall woman with tanned skin and dirty blonde hair comes up, pulling a boy, also tanned, but unlike the woman he has dark hair. The woman looks closely at the little girl in the stoop and her brown eyes go wide as the girl shrinks away._

_"Who are you sweetie? Where are your parents?" The woman asks._

_"My name is Kiki. I am alone in the world." The little girl says, her voice surprisingly raspy for someone so young. The woman's eyes go wide with tears as she puts her hand on the girls back. _

_"Come with me sweetie. You can stay with me and my husband." The woman says and Kiki goes with her, somewhat hesitantly. _

_After dinner with the Cryers, Mrs. Cryer brings Kiki to her room, next to the dark-haired boy's room. A large window is on the opposite wall from the door. After Kiki hears everyone go to bed and sees all the lights turn off, she opens the window and drops to the ground, running off into the night. Looking back, she sees the boy looking at her through his window._

"Thanks Kin." I say quietly, never daring to say those words before, even though that happened four years ago.

**30 Minutes Later: Corin POV (D7)**

After the confrontation with my sister in the elevator I ran away. Like a coward I ran away from my sister because I knew that she was telling the truth. And now I am here alone on the roof, I don't even remember how I got here. I lean over the edge and let tears fall from my eyes. After about ten seconds, the drops bounce back up and splash me in the face. I laugh in spite of myself and dry my green eyes.

"Always thinking about their tributes' safety, huh?" I hear a voice behind me. Startled I turn around and see a girl with bronze-blonde hair and pretty green eyes. A wry smile is on her full lips. Startled, I notice that I am still in my green tree outfit, my tan chest and most of my legs exposed.

"Uh … hi?" I say, surprised by this girl's appearance. She smirks at me, squinting her green eyes while giving me a once over. I notice that she has changed and wiped her makeup clean. _Oh, crud,_ I think to myself, noticing that I even left my makeup on. Blood rushes to my face, but luckily, I think that it's too dark for the girl to notice.

"Evi, Ten," She extends her hand boldly and patiently waits for me to shake it. I take her hand, surprised by how soft it is. She looks at me with one eyebrow cocked, and it takes me a second to realize that she is waiting for my introduction.

"Oh, uh, Corin Hightree." I smile, and realize that I forgot my District number. "Seven." I hastily add. Evi smirks again.

"You know, they sicken me," Evi vents, joining me at the edge of the roof.

"Who?" I ask, very confused by this strange girl.

Her eyes narrow and her full lips twist into a scowl. "The Capitol. They murder defenseless kids and get away with it."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm not defenseless…" I say, mimicking her smirk.

Her scowl turns into a smile. "Ya know, you're all right, Seven."

I smile back at her, the faint sound of an elevator dinging audible in the background.

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**All right guys, here is the rules for sponsoring:**

**1) It can't be your own tribute**

**2) I decide when to send your tribute the gift**

**3) You start out with $500,000**

**4) Every review or PM you send in will get you $100,000**

**5) After the interview I will give you a list of the prices of gifts**

**6) Gifts will increase in price as the Games go on**

**7) You can sponsor anyone between now and the end of the Games**

**Keep reading!**


	10. Allies, Enemies, and Jealousies

**Training Day One:**

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**Evi POV (D10)**

I am itching to get to the snares and traps booth but the moderator won't stop talking to us about the rules. Since when do people who murder kids care about rules? I can only hear the rule: Don't hurt or kill any other tribute. I snort. _Yeah, wouldn't want them to do it before we encourage maximum bloodshed in the arena_. The moderator stops her speech and releases us. I see most of the tributes from higher districts go straight to the weapons while tributes from lower districts go to edible plants and stuff. I head over to the snares and traps and see the boy from Three, Derek, trying in vain to make a snare. I walk over and stand next to him, setting to work.

"Hey," I say, trying to win him over. He flicks me a look with his blue eyes and returns to his cruddy snare. "You know if you loop this like this and-"

"Thanks for the help, princess, but I'll pass." Derek throws down his snare and walks off. I can feel my jaw drop open at his rudeness. My jaw snaps shut when the boy from Seven takes Derek's place beside me.

"Hi, Ten."

"Hey, Seven." I say with a smirk. He smiles back, running his hand through his dark brown hair.

"So, uh, do you think that you could teach me how to make one of these things?" He asks, gesturing towards the snare in front of me, which I just finished while talking to Derek.

"Oh, yeah it's pretty easy," I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear as I show Corin how to make a simple snare. After about five minutes, he holds up a passable snare. I laugh. "Not bad, Seven!"

Corin laughs. "Ya know, you and I make a pretty good team. You with your insane skills and me with my _extensive _knowledge of weapons."

"You have an extensive knowledge of weapons?" I ask, with a smirk on my lips and one eyebrow cocked. "And what weapons are in your repertoire?"

"Well, I know how to chop up a tree…" Seven looks caught.

"Fair enough. Allies?" I ask. Corin looks speechless. "Well, Seven, what'll it be?"

"Yeah, sure. Allies." He looks dazed as he shakes my hand. I give him a cross between a smile and a smirk as I help him with another snare.

**Ashur POV (D8)**

After the moderator frees us I ponder which station to go to. I want to go to the snare place but I see the guy from Seven and the girl from Ten talking, and I didn't want to get caught up in a conversation with them. Instead I head to the swordplay station, something I already know but it wouldn't hurt to impress the Careers. I pick up a sword and face a dummy, slicing it into a tattered mess before you could say "impressive." I can already feel the eyes of the girl from Two and the girl from Four on me. I also see the boy from Two glaring at me as he picks up a saber, one of the ones used in fencing. He puts on a helmet but ignores the protective padding.

"Wanna spar, Eight?" He hisses at me.

"Delighted to, Two." I snarl as I don my padding and helmet. I pick up the second saber.

"Read-"

"Fence!" Two interrupts me, taking a swing at my head. I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth in disapproval.

"Don't you know the first rule in fencing?" I say, slicing at the area where his waist is.

"What's that?" The boy growls as he dodges my blow.

"No cheap shots!" I yell as I crouch down, distracting Two for a moment, then dash around to his side and deliver a slash to his back, causing him to fall down. He rolls over and I put a foot on his chest and point my saber at his heart. "Nice sparring with you." I say as I take my foot off of his chest and move the point away from his heart. I offer him my hand, but he shoves it away, brushing his greasy hair out of his eyes.

"Anytime." The boy narrows his snakelike eyes. I guess I've made an enemy.

I put down my weapon, take off my protective clothing, and push my way through the crowd that has formed around the swordplay station.

"Wait," A beautiful girl with long dark brown hair the color of dark alder wood and eyes the color of warm honey steps in front of me and gently stops me by putting her hand on my chest. "You have skill, you know. Enough skill to be Career. So, what'dya say?" She widens her golden eyes at me expectantly.

"Well, I'm gonna need some time to think about it," I say.

"Well, can you at least tell me your name?" The girl pleads.

"Ashur Wybock, District Eight." I say my district proudly, almost like I'm proud of its non-Career number.

"Well Ashur, I hope to hear from you soon." The girl with the golden eyes turns halfway, then remembers something and faces me again. "I'm Ebony, by the way." I watch as Ebony walks away, and ponder my options. My mind wanders back to District Eight. Where Anya is. Anya, with her auburn hair and lively blue eyes. Anya, Anya, Anya. We would have already been married if it weren't for my Reaping. The big day is next week. I even have a tux rented. I hope that they won't mind if I'm not able to return it alive. _Don't think like that, Ashur! You'll make it out alive and you'll get back to Anya. And you'll try and get Annora back to her baby girl. _I am determined now. Ebony and the boy from Two won't stand a chance. Ten and Seven won't stand a chance either. I'm getting home and getting married. I'll make sure of it.

**Ebony POV (D2)**

"What were you talking to that boy about?" Erik hisses to me as I walk away from Ashur. I flip a lock of hair over my shoulder and lean in towards Erik like I am about to tell him a secret.

"Nothing that concerns you!" I don't yell it in his ear, but I'm not too quiet about it either. He winces as I lean back.

"Jesus Christ Ebony, just asked you a question." Erik whines. "But I did like how close you were…" He trails off, giving me a look that I don't like one bit. I waggle my ring finger – with my gold band on it – in front of his face and then slap him across the face with the back of my hand.

"Hmm, knife-throwing looks nice," I say to nobody in particular as I saunter over to the station and leave a whimpering Erik behind me. Because I am a Career though, a couple lower tributes try to strike up conversation with me. I patiently listen as I pick up a knife, flick my wrist, and in one smooth motion kill a cotton dummy. This stuns the other tributes into silence. Soon, intimidated by me after about seven throws, the lower tributes leave and I am joined by a fellow Career, Glamor from One.

"So what's up with the major rule breakage over there?" Glamor asks, nodding her perfect head in the direction of Erik and his sore cheek.

"Flirting with me."

"So, on another note, why were you talking to that Ashur dude?" I note that underneath Glamor's curiosity there is an unmistakable trace of jealousy. I shake my head.

"What is this, Twenty Questions?" I snap at Glamor, and I stomp away. Thankfully, the moderator rings the bell for lunch and we are all dismissed. I pile my plate high with exotic foods and join my fellow Careers at the Career table. Once everyone I seated, I hold up a finger to silence any questions. "First, before anyone asks what I was doing talking to the guy from Eight, I'll tell you. I offered him a seat at our table." Erik immediately protests but Glamor silences him with a punch on the arm.

"Ebony's smart, he's freaky skilled. We _all _saw him kick Erik's butt at swordplay." Glamor persuades, getting Marcus and Emma to nod in assent.

"It's decided then: we vote. All for adding Ashur, raise your hand." All but Erik raise their hand.

"I guess we have a new Career."

"But he hasn't decided yet," I add, remembering Ashur saying that he would sleep on it.

But hopefully, we will have a new member of the pack.

**Iota POV (D9)**

I know that I shouldn't give away my skills with a dagger, but I can't help it. I find myself migrating to the knives station anyways. I pick up one of the gleaming knives respectfully, admiring how well built it is. These are Capitol weapons, so they will most likely be in the arena. I grip the knife and give it a toss. It lands slightly off-kilter, but that's alright. I mean, these weapons are so much different than the simple ones I have at my home. I pick up another dagger and move to the dummy for close-range fighting. In about five seconds, I have opened gashes in three spots that would eventually prove fatal. I notice Colt coming towards me. We are allies now, bound by that silent exchange over dinner. I honestly feel bad about being so brash and forthcoming, usually I'm not like that, but I couldn't help it. I saw the way he looked at that girl and just needed confirmation. I don't know why I needed it but I did. And I got him upset and angry in the process. That is something that I am not proud of.

"Hey Colt," I say.

"Hey Iota," Colt scratches the back of his neck nervously. "Do you mind expanding this alliance?" My eyes narrow in curiosity.

"Might I ask who is the extension?"

"Eleven." Colt says anxiously. I look over, impressed as I see how large and muscular the boy is. "The girl." Colt adds hastily, and I redirect my gaze. My green eyes zone in on a small, thin girl about my age with dirt-brown hair and sad brown eyes. Her button nose has been broken numerous times, and she looks like she would hurt someone if they dared to fight her. I doubt though, from her stick thin figure and non-existent muscles, that she would be able to make a good ally.

"Her? Why?" I ask Colt skeptically. Colt's eyes dart around the room, looking for an excuse to leave this anxious moment.

"She's pretty good with a dagger and she looks like a survivor. She probably knows boatloads of knowledge about plants too. She's a survivor, Iota. Like us."

I just know that there is an ulterior motive hidden somewhere in this alliance but I can't place it. I sigh. "Let's go welcome her to the alliance then."

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**Hey guys! Hope you liked the first training chapter! So what do you think Ashur will say to Ebony and the Careers about the alliance? What do you think about Evi's and Corin's friendship? And was Avella right in the last chapter: that the Capitol won't let both her and her brother live? Jeez this sounds like a soap opera haha. So review me with the answers to these questions and who you think should be the next POV. Remember, reviewing gets you $100,000 as a sponsor *wink wink***

**Ally**


	11. Training Day Two

**Hey Guys! Sorry I havent updated in a REALLY long time! I have been on vacation then vacation then vacation, and I didn't have computer access in any! Well, I'm going to try and get the next chapter up today because I am going out of town again on Thursday. So here it is: **

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**Annora POV (D8) **

I wake up to the glorious smell of scrambled eggs and French toast, and to the very _not _glorious sound of our escort, Lisi, banging on my bedroom door. Nevertheless, I cheerily get out of bed and move to wake Aster, when I realize that she is back at home with my little brother, Jake. I hope that the neighbors take pity on my family and take them in. I choke back a round of salty tears and throw on black sweats and a blue t-shirt; my training outfit. I have to say that the style isn't the most fashionable but it is very comfortable. Just the way I like my clothes. I brush out my hair, now layered and thinned, courtesy of Ladybug, my evil stylist. I give my hair one last brush-through and head to the dining room for breakfast. I see Ashur sitting next to an empty seat, Lanna, my mentor, and Jero, Ashur's mentor, are sitting side by side across from Ashur. At the ends of the table are Lisi and Ladybug, surprisingly Ashur's stylist isn't there. I take the empty seat beside Ashur and silently wonder how many insults Ladybug is going to attack me with when there are other people around. I lean in toward Ashur. "Why is Ladybug here?" I ask him.

He leans into me also. "She didn't tell me, but I overheard her talking to Lisi about keeping you in line." He says the last part with a small smile. "Did you really do something that bad during chariot prepping that she has to check up on you?" His smile grows. I groan softly.

"She just _hates _me!" I giggle. Ashur gives out a much more dignified chuckle. Ladybug and Lisi send us glares, mostly at me, but our mentors look amused.

"If you are finished annoying that poor boy, Annora, wipe that smile off of your face. It makes you even uglier than you already are." Ladybug snaps at me, her eyes telling me that she knows that I will do so. Instead, I smile even bigger. _Why don't you smile a little bit, Ladybug? Oh yeah, that obvious plastic surgery job makes it almost impossible to move your lips, isn't that right? _I desperately want to say, but I know that doing so will only make me an even bigger enemy out of Ladybug. A pretty Avox girl, around eighteen, with long black hair, tan skin, and violet eyes, comes out of the door, being followed by a troupe of other Avoxes, arms laden with plates. The black-haired Avox sets down a plate filled with delicious food: scrambled eggs with onions, potatoes, and red peppers, French toast, and four strips of crispy bacon. I lick my lips, ready to dig in. "Annora, if you dare touch a piece of that fatty food I will rip your arms out of your sockets." Ladybug's shrill voice cuts through my happiness. She snaps her red fingers and the black-haired Avox hurries over to her. She whispers something, dismisses the Avox, and then leans back in her chair. The black-haired Avox whisks my plate away and replaces it with a bowl of fruit. I glare at Ladybug, then shrug and spear a piece of cantaloupe.

Once we are all finished with our breakfast, Lisi herds Ashur and me into the elevator and tells us to make an alliance. "Today is your last full day of training. Tomorrow, you won't have as much time to befriend the other tributes."

"I don't want to 'befriend' the other tributes," Ashur mumbles. Lisi pretends to ignore him and waves as the elevator doors close and Ashur and I zoom towards the Training Center.

"Wanna be allies?" I gulp. "I know I'm not good at much, but I can run, and, uh, and I'm kinda strong… sorry, I'm rambling. So, uh, whad'ya say?" I fight back tears as I realize that I bungled my chance at surviving with Ashur as my ally.

"I can't," Ashur doesn't look at my eyes.

"What, Why?" I yell, but Ashur is already out the door and dashing towards the Careers.

**Kiki POV (D11)**

I guess I'm in an alliance now. I didn't have to even ask, _I _was asked. By that Colt kid and his district partner, the one with the really long nails. I don't really understand why; I'm a fourteen-year-old runaway who is thin and small and practically blows away in the wind. I'm not saying that I'm not strong or not a fighter, but I don't look like much on the outside. The girl with the long fingernails is skilled with daggers; I had seen her yesterday at the station. And Colt is very tall and strong, probably good at hand to hand. I just don't get why they would want me in their alliance.

I head over to the snare station, since it is not occupied by many tributes as it was yesterday. I pick up some materials and set to work on a snare big and strong enough to trap a human. When I am finished about five minutes later, I am showered with praise from the instructor. "Not bad," I hear a voice from behind me say. When I turn my head, I see that it is none other than the girl from Nine with the long fingernails. She is currently tapping her lip with one of those fingernails, like she is contemplating something. "I see why you would make a good ally. That thing could trap Two." She nods her head in the direction of the monstrous boy from District Two, then gives me a kind smile. I'm glad that she is my ally. I give her a small close-lipped smile in return and then work on a different snare. The girl walks away, back to the dagger station, and I see her decapitate a dummy with a few flicks or her small wrist. I turn and see that Colt has flipped a sparring partner to the floor in hand-to-hand combat. Another smile graces my lips. Maybe I can survive this thing.

**Ashur POV (D8)**

I saunter to the Careers, trying not to look back at my very disappointed and confused District partner. Because of course, I know that I couldn't partner up with her _and _the Careers. I march up to Ebony, the girl that invited me in the first place, and then stop and wait for her to turn to me. She is talking to the girl from One, and the girl from One turns and looks me over. Seeing her fellow Career's attention diverted, Ebony turns. She sees me, smiles kindly, and brushes a strand of dark chocolate hair out of her face with her left hand. A diamond glints in the light. We have more in common than I thought. I wait a moment, then I see the boys from One, Two, and Four, and the girl from Four come over to join us. I clear my throat, slightly nervous that I had attracted a Career audience.

"Uh, I have decided to take you up on your offer. I'll be a Career." Ebony's smile grows wider, a terrible scowl goes onto the boy from Two's face, and the girl from One raises an eyebrow and gives me a crooked smile.

"Well, we've already met, but I'm Ebony. This is my District partner, Erik." She gestures to the scowling boy. I almost laugh, she introduces him like a mother would introduce her sullen child.

"I'm Carbon," The small boy from One says.

"Marcus." From the boy from Four.

"I'm Emma, from Four."

The girl from One cocks a bare knee, causing me to look at her long legs exposed in teeny short shorts. "I'm Glamor," she purrs. "You can call me Glam." She gives me a seductive smile, and I nonchalantly scruff my hair with my left hand, causing the band to be super visible. Her smile drops.

All of the Careers are looking at me now. "Wybock. Ashur Wybock." I say, giving my new alliance a dazzling smile. Who knows, maybe I won't have to kill anyone. My alliance can do that for me. It'll be a free ride to the final eight. Then I can run away and wait it out, only killing when absolutely necessary.

_Anya here I come._

**Corin (D7)**

_Brrrriiinng! Brrrriinng!_

The large room empties of tributes as the lunch bell rings. I catch my sister by the arm and we walk to an empty table together. Our table is towards the right corner of the lunch room, and we start to dig in to our food, some from Seven and some from other districts. My sister has her plate piled high with District Four food; she acquired quite a taste for seafood. I look around as my sister chats to me about how skilled she has gotten with daggers. My eyes rest on a bronze-blonde haired girl scanning the room for a place to sit. I don't think she has seen us yet. "Hey, Ten, over here!" I holler with a smile. Evi turns her head towards me and matches my smile. She immediately head toward our table, her tray laden with food.

"Hey Seven, other Seven." Evi says with a smirk as she slides onto the bench beside me. Her leg brushes mine, probably on accident, but it causes my heart to beat so hard that I swear that the Careers in the center of the room can hear it.

"Corin, who's this?" Avella asks me, practically ignoring Evi and not trying to mask her rudeness. I feel Evi's eyes burning into me.

"Um, Avella, this is our new ally, Evi Trint." I face my sister, though somewhat reluctantly. Evi turns from me and gives Avella a smirk-smile.

Avella takes in Evi's gorgeous green eyes, full pink lips, and lovely face. She looks at me, and then back at Evi, her eyes communicating that she knows that there is something going on. "Why didn't you ask me about this, Corin?" Avella says, disdain in her voice. She brushes a piece of curly brown hair behind her ear. "I thought we were allies." Oh God, this could have gone so much better.

"You didn't ask your own sister, Corin?" Evi says, her smirk gone and an eyebrow raised. Oh Dear Lord, someone please come sit at this table and save me!

"Uh, well, I thought that, uh, you wouldn't mind, Av." I say to my angry sister. Avella rolls her eyes at me pointedly. It's a gesture that I know well from growing up with her. She is telling me that she would yell, er, _talk_, to me later but to anyone it looked dismissive.

"So, Evi, what's District Ten like?" Avella asks, trying to be friendly. Evi bursts into an animated conversation about all of the famous mathematicians that she knows, and Avella listens politely. This thing might work.

The bell rings again and the tributes file inside. Our moderator is talking about how tomorrow would be our private sessions with the Gamemakers and we only have two more hours to train. Looking around, I noticed that some of the kids looked terrified, while others looked excited. Avella looks happy because of her new found skill with daggers. I honestly have no clue what to do for my session. Maybe Avella and Jero can help me figure it out later.

When the moderator frees us again, most of the lower District tributes run off to work at other stations and frantically get more survival skills. I see the boy from Eight laughing with two Careers: the dark-haired girl from Two and the boy with the fishhook in his ear from Four. It looks like the Careers took newbies this year. I don't blame them, he is pretty strong and will probably get tons of sponsors. The boy from District Two, with greasy hair and a snake-ish face, is glaring furiously at his new fellow Career. He better watch out if he doesn't want an enemy for an ally.

I also see the two tributes from District Nine with the girl from District Eleven at the snare station. The girl from District Eleven, Kiki, I think, is showing Colt and Iota from Nine how to make a snare. Iota does pretty well, but Colt's big fingers get in the way. Then the girl from Five sits next to him and works on a snare of her own, letting some strands of crimson hair getting in her face. I see the Colt boy blush and work furiously on his snare, ignoring Kiki's comments, and bungling the snare.

It seems like this'll be an interesting year.

**Celsie POV (D5)**

I try in vain to ignore the group next to me and focus on my own work, but I can't help eavesdropping. In my peripheral vision I see the dark-haired girl from District Eleven trying to teach her allies – Colt and whats-her-name from Nine, how to create a trap that would work with a human. Then, the boy next to me, Colt, completely bungles his snare and traps his thumb, desperately trying to free it. I look over and can't help but laugh. Loudly. The boy looks over at me and blushes scarlet, still trying to free his thumb. His allies are too busy cracking up to help him, so I do.

"Here, let me help you with that." I say gently, untangling the rope in order to set his thumb free. "There, all better." I say with a smile. Colt just widens his eyes and stammers that he has to go. Then he does, leaving me bewildered behind him. Kiki, the girl tribute from District Eleven flies after Colt, but his district partner lingers a little longer. Her green eyes meet mine sympathetically and she gives me a smile.

"Iota." She says, extending her hand in a friendly way.

"Celsie, but you can call me Cici." I say, matching her smile and shaking her hand.

"Welcome to the alliance." Iota says.

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**So this is the second Training Chapter! The next chapter I am going to reveal the scores and the chapter after that is the interview chapter! I think that I am going to do it in the point of view of the audience and Caesar. Ok, so please review! I really want at least four more reviews and don't forget to sponsor you fave tributes!**


	12. Scores Settled

**Hey guys! I'm proud of myself because I got the next chapter out today! Yay! I'll try and start to tackle the interviews *yikes* so wish me luck! Also, any suggestions for who should have the first POV's in the arena? Please review and keep reading!**

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**Erik POV (D2)**

I storm out of the Training Room in a mad rage. How could Ebony invite that sniveling excuse for a tribute into the Careers? Just because he beat me _once_ at fencing does not mean that he is Career material! And come on, I let him win. Wasn't that obvious? Urrrgh! I dash into the elevator, and snarl when I see who is in it. Our brand new Career.

"Welcome to the team," I growl.

"Thanks for the invite," He hisses back. I notice but don't really care that the conversation has fallen silent in the large glass elevator. "Really appreciate it." Ashur smirks.

"You better watch it, Eight. You have no clue how many enemies you have in this competition." The bell in the elevator dings and I exit on the 2nd floor. "Bye." I wave before the glass doors close and the elevator zooms toward the next floors. I notice Ebony writing a letter in the dining room.

"Give this to Lucas if I die, please." She said, handing it to our mentor, tears welling in her eyes. I involuntarily snort. She shouldn't be showing this much emotion in the Games. Apparently, my snort was loud enough for her to hear. She whips around, her chocolate hair flying in her face. A stray tear falls down her cheek. "What are you doing here? Do you realize how much of a jerk you are? I hope you die first!" She screams, then says some words that should never be repeated and stomps on my foot. "I hope it's broken." With that, she whips around again and storms to her room. In fact, my foot does feel like it is on fire, and my toes feel smushed. I groan in frustration and pound my fist into the wall, turning towards our mentor. "You saw that, didn't you?" I scream.

"I'm not sure what I saw, everything happened so fast." And with that, I was left alone in the room, with a hurt foot and hatred towards my gorgeous district partner. Just like she wants me dead, I want to strangle her. These next few weeks will be fun.

**Avella POV (D7)**

"How couldn't you ask me about this? An outsider? We can't trust her, Corin!" I scream at my brother.

"What do you mean we can't trust her? She has been helping us from the start! She is excellent with snares, and with her we are gonna get tons of sponsors." Corin's forest green eyes plead with my own eyes. The gears click in place and realize what's going on.

"You _like _her!" I jab my finger into my brother's muscular chest. "That's what this is all about!" I groan in frustration as Corin flushes crimson and confirms my accusation. "_How could you? How could you do this?_ We are _never_ going to both win this thing now that you _like _her! You're going to get us both killed!" I pace over to the edge of the roof, where Corin and I are talking. I let some tears fall over the edge and splash me back on the face. My brother is in love with a smirking girl from District Ten when everyone is going to make sure that we die before we see the first sunrise in the arena. And to add to that the drama-hungry Capitol will probably keep us alive and torture us together to satisfy their drama needs. Neither of us are gonna make it if he weakens himself like this! Grrrrr! I turn to face him, preparing to do the only option I have at this point.

"I'm not your ally, Corin. I can't be if she is. You're just going to die because of her, whether she kills you or somehow causes it you will be killed by Evi Trint. And I can't be there when it happens, Corin. If you want me as an ally, you can't have her as a girlfriend. I'm sorry." My brother puts his hand on my back comfortingly, but I shrug it off. "I'm sorry." I whisper and then run to the elevator and press the button for the 7th floor. Thank God that the elevator is empty and no one can see me cry my eyes out. I run into the hallway so that nobody can see me and slam the door to my room, sobbing on the sheets. About half-an-hour later I hear someone knock on my door. "Go away Corin!" I scream, throwing a pillow at the door.

"Uh, its Seena, your escort. It's time for dinner, hon."

"Oh, uh, sorry Seena. I'll be right out." I say, rushing to the bathroom and washing out my eyes. I cannot show weakness in front of my whole support system. When I walk to the dining room, a whole feast has been laid out, in honor of my last day of Training and one step closer to the arena. Oh never ending joy. I choose the seat farthest from my former ally, I can't show solidarity with him anymore. After five courses of delicious and rich food leaving me feeling like I could barf, we file into the T.V. room and wait to see the scores. Siena Clouds and Ptolemy Cristo, the two announcers for the Games, smile and blab about each of the tributes in the Games before they actually show the scores.

"So, Ptolemy, what do you think about the District Seven tributes, the two Hightrees?" Siena chirps.

"Well, Siena, they make such a cute alliance and hopefully make it out alive." Ptolemy says with a solemn smile on his face that I somehow know is meant for us. Finally the pictures flash on the screen, followed by numbers covering a huge range. I see Corin's face softening when Evi's smirking face flashes onto the screen and I immediately look away. The scores are:

**Glamor Zon: 9**

**1. Carbon Night: 7**

**2. Ebony Darknight: 10**

**2. Erik Roberts: 9**

**3. Mila Keeley: 5**

**3. Derek Labre: 6**

**4. Emma Townsend: 8**

**4. Marcus Lively: 9**

**5. Celsie Crete: 6**

**5. Meck Silkey: 4 **

**6. Lare Corollo: 6**

**6. Tristie Perkins: 8**

**7. Avella Hightree: 7**

**7. Corin Hightree: 8**

**8. Annora Carlton: 5**

**8. Ashur Wybock: 10**

**9. Iota Nightshade: 8**

**9. Colt Wilkins: 8**

**10. Evi Trint: 7**

**10. Drew Mutsaka: 6**

**11. Kiki Tavela: 6**

**11. Kin Cryer: 9**

**12. Kesha Goldenrod: 8**

**12. Ax Crillenhall: 8**

I am very surprised with all of the scores. Most of the other non-Career Districts have pretty good scores, while the Careers' were lower. This year will be an interesting Games.

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**Yay again! Ok, so as of right now we have a grand total of one sponsor haha. It's almost the Games! C'mon sponsor some tributes! I have the sponsor info on the first Training Day I think. So sponsor some people to keep them alive! I may create sponsors too, just so we have some if we don't by the first week of the Games or so. Keep reviewing!**


	13. Interview Part One

**Hey guys! I was getting really impatient and I wanted to update so I decided to do the interviews in two parts. Here is my first one:**

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**Caesar Flickerman POV**

"Can I please have a makeup crew here? NOW?" Reese, the director, screams at nobody in particular. In a second, a group of terrified makeup artists fly over and powder my face with about a billion different powders and rubbing my cheeks with a bunch of exotic scented oils. The theme this year is hot pink, to honor the victor from the year before; a girl from One who dressed in hot pink for her interview and later confessed that pink was her favorite color. Almost all the time my color palette ties in with the Hunger Games. After all, they are the hottest form of entertainment here in the Capitol. The lights flicker in the building, letting everybody backstage and in the audience know that we had five minutes until curtain up. I see the tributes mingling nervously in the wings. One girl catches my eyes the most; a beautiful girl with wavy bronze-blonde hair and huge green eyes talking and laughing with some of the Careers. She is wearing a V-neck spaghetti strap gold dress that ends right below her hind-quarters. It's a very flirty dress, and she is using it to flirt with the guys from the upper districts. I sit in my director's chair and listen to the tributes' conversations.

"You know, I've been working out since I was a kid." The boy, Erik, from District Two, brags to her. She laughs as she feels his biceps, but I see a kind of emptiness in her emerald eyes. You can see that the guys are smitten with her, and she leaves, making them beg for more. She moves onto the Career girls. Laughing and chatting with them, especially the blonde girl from District One. You can see that the girls liked her too, and I realized her plan when the girl from District One stopped her.

"You know, you seem smart enough. How about you tag along with us in the Games. At least for a little while." Glamor, One girl, asked her.

"Sure, if you insist." The girl responded. As she walked away, she pumped her arm in triumph. The tributes are so fun to watch, especially the sneaky ones like her.

The director herded me out on the stage and the tributes took their seats. "Three…two…one," The director counted down.

"Hello to our lovely Capitol! Here I am with our twenty-four tributes. Let's start with the luxury district's lovely girl tribute; Glamor Zon!" As if on cue, the audience cheers loudly as the platinum blonde beauty comes up and takes the chair across from me. She is wearing a one-shouldered dusky purple gown that clings to her curves and flows around her feet. There are flowers around her bust that sparkle with a billion tiny diamonds. The stylists for District One have it lucky, they usually get striking blonde Barbie dolls and muscular men and they dress them up in diamonds. They have the easy road. "Well, Glamor, your dress is striking, what do you think about your stylists?"

"Well, Caesar, I have always been a fabulous dresser, but these designs are on a completely different league. My design team is amazing, thank you all!" She gestures with a manicured hand to the balcony where the designers sit. She then flashes a dazzling smile to them, and I see some of the Capitol men melt as she flips some of her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder. The next two minutes go somewhat like this, with her being dazzling and flirty, answering the questions in the way that the Capitol wants her to, and bringing up her famous victor father now and then. When her time is up, the crowd cheers loudly and some men wolf-whistle. So far, so good.

Her district partner is unfortunately disappointing, as he is fourteen and quiet. "So, Carbon Night, anyone at home you want to say hi to?" I ask him.

"Well, my best friend and his mother." Was his straightforward answer. The interview went like this for the next few minutes, and then his buzzer went off. The audience cheers lightly. I steal a glance at the next two tributes. The girl is beautiful and the boy is muscular. Perfect.

"Say hello to Ebony Darknight!" The audience cheers as a dark-haired girl wearing a black strapless and backless dress with multi-colored polka-dots on it. Her make-up brings out her large golden eyes, and a sparkling diamond rests on her left ring finger. I compliment her dress and we banter a little bit. She is overall very charming and dazzling, like Glamor, but there was something different about that I can't quite place. Then I ask the question that I strategically timed in our conversation. "Is there anybody at home who is cheering for you?"

Ebony hesitates for a second. "Lucas." She says quietly, then she clears her throat and tries again. "Lucas, my fiancée. He is amazing and he is waiting for me and cheering for me right now. I love you, honey." She says, turning to the cameras. "I love you so much! I love you too, Belladonna. Don't drive the whole district insane please! I'll see you soon." She finishes just as the buzzer rings, leaving tears welling in her eyes and the audience sobbing. I wipe away a tear myself. _Caesar you are good! _

Her partner would have to be a miracle worker to top that, but he isn't too bad. His name is Erik Roberts, and he is the typical Career tribute: buff, cocky. "So, Erik, enlighten me. How do you think you will win this thing?" I prop my head on my fist and prop my arm on my knee in a pondering pose. Erik sits up straighter and discreetly flexes his bulging muscles, causing some of the audience to shudder.

"As you can see, Caesar, I am probably the strongest one here (another flex), and these weakling tributes stand no chance. I will hunt them down ruthlessly. They stand no chance." Erik glares at the other tributes, and the weaker ones tremble and shrink away. One tribute, though, Ashur from District Eight, just glares back. Erik's bell rings and he sits confidently at his seat as the audience cheers loudly. We like the confident ones. Next up is District Three, one of the brainiac districts.

"Please welcome Mila Keeley!" I address the audience as Mila clambers into the tribute chair across from me. Mila is one of the younger tributes at fourteen, and she is slim and fair-skinned. I ask her a few safe questions, and her answers are quick-witted and well thought out. I guess she's heard these questions before and saw it coming. Smart girl. I ask her if she believes that she stands a chance in this competition, being one of the younger tributes.

"You don't know what I have in me. I am a survivor. And I am smarter than I look." She says, almost with venom in her voice. The bell rings and she struts back to her chair, satisfied with her vague answer. The audience is too, they like her wit and sense of mystery. That will help a lot in the arena. Now for the District Three boy, Derek Labre.

Derek walks up and takes the seat that his district partner just vacated. He seems sarcastic and his sense of humor is dry. He reminds me of Haymitch, the victor many years ago, when I was just training to be the interviewer. Derek is wearing a tux made out of crossing metallic threads that gleam like wires. It is subtle but brilliant. His partner was wearing a gown of the same material. When I ask him about his suit, he just shrugs and says something generic and slightly sarcastic. The audience looks puzzled, knowing nothing about this boy from District Three. And I had the feeling that it would be very hard getting anything out of him. I guess District Three is the mysterious district. The next minute or two is virtually the same, evasive answers to even the most pressing questions. The audience is getting bored, hearing about practically nothing from this boy. Finally, when I ask him about his family back home, we get some personality out of him. He looks at me and says: "My little sister, Crissy. I love her even if she _does _drive me insane. That's all." He goes back to his seat a split-second before the bell rings. Over all, he was very empty with his answers.

The District Four tributes look promising. The boy is fairly muscular and the girl is pretty. Not as gorgeous as the first two girls, but pretty nonetheless. "Please welcome Emma Townsend!" The Capitol cheers for the pretty girl as she takes her seat. She has brown hair pulled up in many curls and a pretty floor-length dress that matches her piercing blue eyes exactly. She looks poised and sophisticated. "Tell me Emma, what are your thoughts on your dress?" Emma glances quickly at the blue fabric flowing around her thin body and glances at her stylist in the audience. She plasters a huge white smile on her face.

"I didn't know they made fabric this color!" She exclaims, getting a few chuckles from the audience. Her interview overall goes very well, she answers the questions in a way that pleases and satisfies the audience, without really giving too much or too little away. She is a great interviewer. When she leaves, the audience claps loudly, showing that they loved her answers. I guess Emma Townsend, the girl with the piercing blue eyes, is going to get a few sponsors. Now time for her District Partner.

Marcus Lively looks interesting, with a shimmering suit the color of the ocean. He has a large silver fishhook in his ear. Hmm, maybe he is more of a brooding type. I ask him a few questions and I find that my initial overview was completely wrong. He is really actually quite charming and lighthearted. "What do you think of the Capitol, Marcus?" I give him my pose of rapt attention.

"Truthfully?" He asks with a slight smile, running his hand through his dark blonde hair. I shrug and he flashes a smile again. "It reminds me of a city made out of candy." The audience looks unsure of whether this is a compliment or not until I start laughing. The audience immediately cracks up too, and even Marcus gives a little chuckle. The audience is happy when his bell rings. Good job, Caesar.

Celsie Crete, one tribute from Five, looks nice. She is thin with long scarlet hair left down and slightly curled around her shoulders. She is wearing a dark brown dress to match her dark brown doe eyes that is strapless and goes to her knees. It is beaded at the bodice and the hem and sides are decorated with brown lace. Her feet are adorned with sky high scarlet pumps that match her hair. She is an interesting mix between innocent and sultry. She takes her seat and smiles at the audience and me. I notice that Colt, the boy from District Nine, was staring at Celsie with an awestruck look on his face. When he saw my gaze, his cheeks immediately colored and he looked at the floor. Interesting. I ask Celsie a few general questions and she answers them with wit and charm. Colt has good taste. Then I ask a question that I haven't asked tonight. "So, is there anyone special at home?" Celsie looks a little surprised for a second then gathers herself.

"Well, there's my brother and sister, Castanea and Cypress. I love them to death. And then there is my father, He is the best that a girl could ever ask for. I have a great family." Celsie smiles as small tears well up in her eyes.

"I mean, do you have a boyfriend?" I press on a little more. Celsie looks at me with red cheeks.

"Uh, no. No." She says, her face nearly as red as her hair. The buzzer rings, she flashes the audience a smile and goes back to her seat. Her district partner is one of the sad ones, being twelve years old. He is overall very boring, but he makes the audience cry.

"So, Meck, anyone cheering for you at home?" Meck's little frame sag a little bit.

"There's my auntie. I love her a lot." Meck starts crying, along with two-thirds of the audience. When he leaves the audience barely claps; being so busy with crying on each other's shoulders. I wipe away another stray tear. These tributes really pluck at your heartstrings don't they?

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**So there you have it. I am skipping the District Six reapings because they are my characters and don't matter very much. I hope to have the next chapter out soon, then onto the arena! Okay so, I want at least five reviews this time. Please please review and sponsor! We have more sponsors now but more is better. **

**How is Evi's plan going to affect Corin? What do you feel about everybody's interviews? Do you think Celsie and Colt should get together?**

**R&R!**


	14. Interview Part Two

**Hey guys! Here is the second part of the interview:**

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**Ayana Liffle POV (Audience Member)**

I sniffle sadly and wipe away some tears as the little boy from District Five sits back down. We all know that he is going to die, so we sob for him. The next tribute that comes up is a scrawny thirteen-year-old boy from District Six. His name is Lare, and his answers are so quiet that none of us audience members can hear what he has to say. You can feel the boredom floating around in the air above us. When he goes back to his seat, the clap is half-hearted. The girl is very muscular, with broad shoulders, stringy brown hair, and strong features. Her name is Tristie Perkins. Caesar asks her a few questions and she booms out the answers, much different from her partner, but they are boring and generic anyways. Now it's time for District Seven: the siblings. You can see the whole audience lean forward in their seats to listen closely.

"Avella Hightree!" Caesar says excitedly as the small fourteen-year old takes her seat. She is wearing a forest green empire waisted dress – Greek style (which we know because it is becoming all the rage) – that comes all the way to the floor. Her dark brown curly hair is pulled back in a headband. "So, Avella, are you and your brother sticking together this Games?" Caesar asks her.

"Actually, Caesar, we have decided to go different ways, as we could not see eye to eye," Avella replies, glaring at her brother and strangely the girl from Ten. Her interview goes by like this, Caesar asking her questions that she answers sweetly, but then whenever she gets the chance she twists the question and turns on her brother. I wonder how he is going to take it. When her bell rings, the audience cheers loudly, because little Avella has just added more drama to this Games.

"Give it up for Corin Hightree!" Caesar exclaims, as we roar and Corin sits. He is wearing a forest green tunic with black pants underneath. His dark wavy hair has been left how it normally is, and his forest green eyes are shining, with tears or excitement we don't know. Caesar asks Corin a few introductory questions, then plunges right in. "How do feel about your sister leaving the alliance? Is there still an alliance that you belong to?" Corin takes a deep breath. He is so hot when he is concerned.

"Dibs," I whisper to my best friend, Lanny, who is sitting next to me.

"Well, I love my sister and wish that she didn't leave, because its not safe alone, but it is her choice. There is still an alliance, though, that's what me and my sister couldn't see eye to eye about." Corin glances shyly over at the girl from District Ten and she blushes and looks down at the floor. Sadly, you can almost see the love seeping out of his pores.

When his bell rings we all cheer as loudly as we did for Avella. These siblings really know how to add to the drama. Next up is Eight.

"Please welcome Annora Carlton!" Caesar says loudly. The girl he gestures to is pudgy, with acne scars on her face. Her hair and her eyes are magnificent shades of brown though. If she lost a little weight and got the scar treatment we have here, she would definitely be pretty. Caesar starts with a few of his generic questions, to get to know her, but that doesn't work so well. "So tell me Annora, tell me about your outfits!" She is wearing a multitextured dusty pink strapless dress that somehow still looks absolutely gorgeous even with all the different fabric types.

"Well, the dresses are great, but the stylist is less than. In fact, she is a total brat." Annora catches her mistake and her mouth and eyes widen so huge they take up her whole face. She throws up her hands to her face and we all look to her stylist, Ladybug, glaring daggers down to Annora. Uh-oh.

"That was dumb," Lanny whispers to me.

"Can I go back now?" Annora meekly asks. Caesar glances at the control booth above our heads and the bell goes off early. We don't even clap because we are so shocked. The next tribute, though, brings us girls back to reality.

"Okay, here is Ashur Wybock!" Caesar hurriedly says, urging us all to forget about Annora and worship the next tribute. And worship we do. Ashur Wybock cleans up good. His brown hair is styled perfectly, and the Capitol even let him keep his slight stubble. He is just as buff as he looked on T.V., and even hotter than on T.V.

"Dibs!" Lanny almost yells in my ear. Oh well.

Caesar asks Ashur a few questions to start, but none of the girls are paying attention to his voice, only his looks. Finally, some of us pull it together and listen too. "So, Ashur, what do you miss most back home?"

"Well Caesar, the answer is in the question. I miss home. Period. I miss family, I miss friends, I miss my own bed, my own roof. I miss my home." Ashur says, causing most of the girls to tear up for his sake. Poor, poor Ashur Wybock. When his bell rings, the girls scream and cheer and blow kisses and faint. One girl even asks him to marry her, but he pretends not to hear it.

"Okay, folks, lets quiet down." Caesar pleads. We willingly oblige, for Caesar is the best interviewer there is. "Well, that was sure exciting, so let's welcome our District Nine female, Iota Nightshade!" Iota sits on the stool. She is pretty enough, with piercing green eyes and straight dark brown hair. Her hair is up in a bun and streaked with silver. She is wearing a silver tunic and black leggings with designs on them. Her eyes are outlined in blue eyeliner. She looks like moonlight, in my opinion. "So Iota, how's the Capitol?"

Iota shrugs. "It's pretty cool." Her interview goes like that, with her never giving a full answer and with Caesar trying to milk the answers out of her. Overall, she seems very mysterious, and those fingernails scare me a little bit. When she cheers, we clap, but we feel like we are clapping for nothing, because we have no clue who the real Iota is.

"Next up, please welcome Colt Wilkins!" Caesar shouts, generating applause from the audience. Colt walks to the chair. He is pretty handsome, with jet black hair and piercing green eyes. What is it with District Nine and the piercing eyes? Hmm. But even as handsome as Colt is, he doesn't generate the response from us girls like Ashur did. Colt actually looks shy and sweet, but there is a sadness deep in his eyes. Caesar asks Colt some more questions, broing normal ones, when his eyes widen in recognization. "Your sister, Ciera, was in the Games last year, wasn't she?"Caesar exclaims, proud that he put two and two together.

I remember Ciera Wilkins. She was tall, like Colt, with hip length pin straight black hair, but her eyes were blue, not green. She was very pretty, and had a few sponsors because of that, but the Careers finished her off When there were only nine left. Back on the stage, Colt looked as if you had just ripped open an old wound, which, mentally, Caesar did. "She was the best person, she cared…" Colt says sadly, and the bell goes off. His face looked like it would shatter.

Caesar clears his throat uncomfortably. "Uh, well, please welcome Evi Trint!" Here she is, the girl that Corin glanced at. She is pretty, with bronze-blonde hair and giant green eyes, who could blame him. She is smirking. Caesar asks some questions, and she answers nicely and in a way that satisfies us. The boys look pretty captivated by her, like they were with Ebony and Glamor.

"Dibs," My brother whispers. I guess he's joined the game.

"So, Evi, do you have any allies in these Games?" Now it's Evi's turn to glance at Corin. She smiles now, a genuine smile, though it still has some smirk in it.

"I'm in an alliance with someone that I really like, and I hope they win. He deserves it." Evi looks at Caesar and the audience, and seems pleased with her answer, though she is a little flushed. Corin is blushing like mad. The bell rings, we clap and my brother and his friends wolf-whistle, and we are on to her District partner, Drew Mutsaka.

Drew is utterly and painfully average. He has average hair, average looks, average height. He is dressed in a suit made out of the same golden material as Evi's dress. It looks slightly ridiculous on him. Caesar asks him some questions, not really excited about his new average subject to interview, but he still presses on. Drew answers the questions like we expected, averagely. Finally, we get some emotion out of him. Caesar had asked him a question about how he was going to get home.

"I'm just going to do whatever it takes. I want to get home to my family, to my friends, to everything that matters to me." His bell rings and tears spill out of his eyes. Way to turn it around, kid. When he goes back to his seat, we cheer loudly and respectfully. This boy isn't so bad now.

"He really turned his interview around," I whisper to Lanny.

"Yup," she whispers back.

"Now for Kiki Tavella, from District Eleven!" These interviews were almost over, but we had a great batch of tributes. Kiki, a small tanned girl with brown hair and eyes, and a nose that has obviously been broken, flops onto the seat. She doesn't necessarily look hostile, but she does look like if you would try anything she will have her fist at your face or a knife at your throat before you could blink. She looks like a survivor. Her dress is the color of wheat, and it comes down to her knee. It is spaghetti strap and her hair is pulled back with a wheat colored ribbon. She looks like her stylist wants her to look innocent, but forgot about the fierce look on her face. Caesar asks some more questions, and she answers, her voice slightly husky, but not very noticeably. "So, Kiki, tell me, why did you volunteer?" Caesar takes up his thinking pose again.

"Because that was my little sister! Anastasia, I love you and am sorry that I ran away. I hope you remember me, but you don't have to." Kiki's fierce looks softens considerably, and when her bell rings we all cry and cheer and cry some more. These tributes really induce tears, don't they?

**(A/N: I am not going to do Kin's (D11) or Ax's (D12) interviews because they are my characters and won't be very important to the story. Kin acted charming, and the audience liked him. Ax acted mysterious and brooding, and the audience liked him too.)**

When Kin sits down, we cheer for him, charming charming Kin. Now it is time for District Twelve, the last interview.

"Kesha Goldenrod!" Caesar cheers, excited that the interviews have gone so well (except for Annora's case) and confident that the Games will be great. Kesha walks up to the stage, in another midriff baring her flat stomach for us all to see. The sleeves fall off the shoulder and her skirt falls to her knees. Her whole outfit deepens in color until it has gone from yellow to a dark red that is almost black. She is wearing gladiator sandals, and her light brown hair is streaked with black, red, and orange. She looks very rebellious and tough, she will be one to look out for.

"She looks like a freak," Lanny whispers.

"Agreed." I whisper back.

"So Kesha, what is your strategy to get back to your family?" Kesha fixes Caesar with her bright blue stare, not smiling.

"I don't have a family to go home to, at least not a family that I _want _to go home to." Our hearts break as we realize that this girl has a reason to be tough, and we like her more for it. She answers a few more questions, the goes back to her seat, leaving us stunned by the girl that we were so quick to judge. Her District partner goes up, answers the question mysteriously, then sits back down.

"Thank you everyone for coming, and have a Happy Hunger Games!" Caesar gushes to us as we file out of our seats and debate about which tribute was our favorite. Yes, we will have a Happy Hunger Games. How could we not?

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**Okay, next step is the arena! I have a pretty good idea for the arena that I just thought up last night, so I am prepared. Also, I will be starting school soon so I might not be able to update as quickly. The next chapter will actually be sponsoring info, like what each item costs and how much each sponsor has to spend as of the time when I write it. So hurry up and sponsor! Reviews are always nice :).**

**Also, some people have told me that I focus a lot on some characters in Training and not on others, and I am going to clear things up. In the training, there was a bunch of things that had to be settled between some of the tributes, so I had to repeat POV's a lot. In the Games it will be totally different and I will give the other tributes the spotlight too. So on the subject of POV's, who would you like to have a POV in the next real chapter? Who was your favorite interview? Who do you think will win?**

**Happy Hunger Games!**


	15. Changing

**Enni Carlson POV (stylist for D3)**

I put my hand on Mila's back, absentmindedly admiring the self-done paint job I had applied earlier. "It's okay honey," I say to her reassuringly, "You'll be fine!" Mila runs her fingers through her ponytail, and I stifle back a gasp. She is totally ruining the middle part! Instead, I put my hand on both of hers (partly to act comforting and partly to keep her from ruining her part even more). She lets out a sigh. "Tell me about it, hon." I say, impressed with how caring and maternal I sound.

Mila sighs again and frees one hand to sip her water. "I'm not like the other tributes: funny, strong, gorgeous, charming. I have nothing going for me! No one will want to sponsor me and I'll die a lonely death in the Hunger Games." My eyes get watery. I forgot how angsty the tributes tend to get right before the Launch. I can tell more caring and maternal-ness will be needed on my part.

"Aw, sugarplum, you are more than that! You are determined, stubborn, witty. Why I could go on and on! And don't forget smart, you live in District Three after all." I throw in a smile. "Once the sponsors see this, they will be lining up to help the infamous Mila Keeley, the smartest and wittiest one in the Games!" I throw my hands in the air for good measure. If Mila goes in like this, all of my caring moments will go wasted because she will be picked off in seconds.

"Smart and witty, how are those going to help me? I need strength, the ability to use weapons, anything but wit." Mila is a mess by now. This is so unlike her! She was so full of life when she stubbornly refused to wear the matching full-length skirt that was originally supposed to go over her live wire chariot costume. She had been so zealous and stubborn, and now she was down and hopeless.

"Mila, if you want to survive, and I sure as hell want you to, then you better snap out of it. You can't go in there like a wreck or the Careers will kill you! Did your mentor and you work out a strategy for the Games?" I exclaim, with a weird fierceness in my voice that I had never noticed before. Mila, awestruck as well, nods wordlessly. "Well then, go in there with your strategy and knock 'em dead! I wanna be designing your dresses for the Victory Tour, missy." I smile and straighten her jacket, a light brown shell that won't really protect from much cold but will definitely help when it rains. Underneath is a tight-fitting long-sleeved white shirt with a thin white camisole under that. She is wearing khaki cargo pants that have a zipper an inch above the knee on each leg, giving her the ability to transform her whole outfit from cold to warm. Makes you wonder what the arena is going to be. On her feet are the usual Hunger Games number, brown leather boots with a tread specifically designed for running. Overall, it is a pretty practical outfit, if you are practical enough to figure it out. I have total confidence that Mila is practical enough. I put her to the test. "Tell me, what is this jacket useful for?" Mila looks at me perplexedly, and then answers simply that it keeps out rain. "Is it good at trapping heat?" She shakes her head, still not understanding. "Now tell me, what's under the jacket?"

"A long sleeved shirt?" She says/asks. I nod encouragingly.

"Under that?"

"A camisole." I smile at her, she might be getting it and she doesn't know. I just have to help her out a little bit more. If there is anything I know, it's clothes.

"What is covering your legs, Mila?"

"Pants?"

"Yes, what is an inch above the knee on each leg?" I beam at her some more. I want her to make it so bad, I don't know why.

"A zipper – for changing the pants into shorts." Mila waits for me to mention the boots, or the socks, or the underwear, or something, but I am finished.

"Now, Mila, what can your outfit do?" I ask, an eyebrow raised, to see if she gets it or not. This is the final test. She scrunches up her eyebrows, then gets a look in her eyes that advertises that she gets it. My message wasn't for nothing.

"It changes."

**Briss Daniels POV (D12 stylist)**

"Kesha?" I ask, something nagging at the back of my mind, besides what to design next. My tribute turns to me, underneath all that makeup we have been covering her with, her face looks fresh and vibrant. A fresh, vibrant face that will probably be seeing the last of the world within the next few weeks. The thought nearly make me cry.

"Yes?" Kesha's light brown hair, still streaked with the colors of fire, is pulled nonchalantly back in a ponytail. I hope to God that she stands a chance. I take a breath.

"Did you really like my outfits? I mean, Cinna really outdid himself thirty years ago. I wasn't even born yet his designs withstood time an-"

"They were great, Briss." Kesha smiles and sips her water, and I can see through the little cracks in her nonchalant façade. If the tube doesn't come soon, she will start crying and not be able to think straight, one of the main reasons why the bloodbath happens. Tributes are too emotionally distraught to think straight and they get skewered by a Career they accidentally ran into, or (this happened a few times, trust me) they skewer themselves in the confusion. The bloodbath is probably one of the most dangerous part of the Games. Its also one of the most entertaining parts for the Capitol to watch, all that blood spilled is so exciting! Well, at least among some of the stylists and mentors, it is different. We aren't all bad, you know. Do you think we like seeing the kids we have grown to love die mercilessly on T.V.? It's a hard job, but one very honored.

"Thanks," I give Kesha a smile. I like this girl. She is spunky, but nice. She is a good friend. She is a kid. She doesn't deserve to die. She needs to live. I place my fingers to my temple and rub, my jangled up thoughts have decided to take a sledgehammer to my skull.

"You okay?" Kesha asks in concern. Her worried eyes scan my face. I find myself laughing at the irony, this girl is worried for me because of a headache, when she is going to face her death any time now. The door to the room bursts open and a needle into Kesha's skin as a light above the metal plate blinks on. Kesha is directed to stand on it, ad once she is settled the tube descends. She waves sadly at me and I do the same. It seems eerily final.

"It's just a headache," I belatedly reply as her plate shoots up the tube and whisks her out of my sight. A single tear slides down my cheek, ruining my mascara. After two years, I can't seem to buy the waterproof. Stupid me.

**Meck POV (D5)**

I can only describe the feeling as I shoot up into the arena as flying. A blast of fresh air hits my face and I almost stagger backwards, but then catch myself before I set off any mines. I look around me breathlessly. The tributes are lined up closer than comfortable on a small islet, faced with the gleaming and overflowing Cornucopia. My teacher always says that it represents the Capitol's endless bounty to the districts. I always used to think that that was about as true as the Easter Bunny. When I told my aunt this, she spanked me and told me never to repeat those words to anyone, ever. I almost cry at the memory. Surrounding us and practically at our heels is a clear stream, it is pretty wide but looks no more than a foot or two deep. It is so clear that you can see the trout swimming lazily through. It looks very beautiful. The stream circles the islet, like a moat, and then breaks off into four perfectly symmetrical branches, also eerily straight, that seem to go on to the ends of the earth. In between each stream a large wedge of land is created, and each one the terrain is different. The wedge to my right is a very dense green forest, it looks like the perfect place to hide. The wedge to my left is a desert wasteland, full of rolling dunes and red-orange sand. I'm _not _going in there. The wedge straight ahead of me is a lush and colorful forest, full of exotic sounds and cool breezes. There doesn't seem like too bad of a place to be. I pivot to see the wedge to my back, a freezing tundra, dotted with forests and glaciers. In the distance is a huge glacier. Not there, either. My best bet seems to be the wedge to my right, because it looks the most familiar.

All of a sudden the announcer (why can't I remember his name?) booms out his voice across the arena. "Let the Hunger Games begin!" He announces with authority. A loud gong goes off and I flinch. Then I realize that I am free to run, to sprint for the woods, but my feet can't move. I look desperately around at the other tributes, I see the giant boy from two viciciously stab somebody, and I hurriedly keep looking until I spot Celsie, unmistakable with her bright crimson hair, yelling something to me from my right. She is almost to the water's edge, tagging along some other tributes. They must be an alliance. She shouts frantically and I cup my hand over my ear, signaling that I don't know what she is saying. She signals me to come with her, and I nod in understanding. I take off from my plate. I am not very fast, but I'm okay. Celise's eyes widen and she screams something to me frantically.

"What?" I yell back. She screams some more, but all I can here is the slight tone of her voice and see her lips moving. "What?"

"Hello, little brat." A voice hisses from behind me, it's the boy from District Two. _Oh, that_, is my thought as he runs me through and I sink to the ground.

**Celsie POV (D5)**

Shock courses through my body. Of course I've seen the Games, its mandatory, and of course I cried emphatically when the twelve-year-olds were killed, but watching it _live _fills me with so many feelings. Shock, rage, sadness. The thought that the District Two boy deserves to die in here. "Celsie!" Iota yells, bringing me back to reality. Immediately, once I remember where I am, my senses heighten.

"I'll cross first!" I yell back, knowing that the water might have killer piranhas or something. I take one tentative step into the stream, and at first I feel its coolness caressing my feet. Then, without warning, a burning pain jolts through my legs, causing a cry to escape my lips. I sink to my knees, unthinking, and more burning agony shoots through me. I let out another cry of pain. I try to get back to my feet and out of the water, but the pain has glued me to the sandy bottom. I'm stuck. All of a sudden, the trout that I saw swimming earlier start gathering, and they bare their unnaturally pointed teeth, ready to attack. I scream again.

"Celsie!" A voice screams, and I see out of my peripheral vision a huge shape barreling towards me. "Celsie!" he yells again. The burning has become unbearable. I wish those piranha-trout would just finish me off already and save me the pain. One trout must sense this and he takes an experimental nibble at my knee. Like everything else that has happened to me so far, it is agonizing. The trout swishes his tail, probably telling them that I am tasty enough to eat. The other trout get into position around me, ready to strip me to the bone. My knee is already bleeding profusely, clouding the crystal clear water. "Celsie!" The voice says again. I decide that no matter who I saw barreling towards me, the voice must be God's. I am practically dead anyways. My eyes start drooping. I am exhausted. I want to sleep. I would rather die than survive like this for much longer. I can be with my mother. I peek open one eye. The piranha-trout are ready to strike, my death is seconds away. Suddenly, I am lifted into the air, two strong arms under my knee and my back. I look into my saviors face. He is handsome, with black hair and worried green eyes. I wrap my arms around his neck and rest my head on his shoulder.

"Thanks," I mumble, right before I fall asleep in the worried boy's arms.

**Emma POV (D4)**

The gong sounds, and us Careers are ready for the fight, arming ourselves with weapons before most of the other tributes can blink, let alone step off their plates. I grab a bow and a quiver full of gleaming bronze arrows. I look at the opening of the Cornucopia and see a girl trying to grab a set of gleaming silver knives. Without thinking, I notch an arrow and let it fly, aiming for the girl's calf. Of course, I don't miss. I'm in pure Career mode now. No time for mistakes. I sprint up to the knives and grab them, taking two for myself and strapping them onto my belt, shouldering the pack. I look at the girl, piercing green eyes looking at me in terror. My Career instincts kick in.

_Finish her off! _A cruel-sounding voice hisses in my head, my inner Career. _There is no room for mercy! Kill her! Slit her throat! She can't move, so do it! _Looking down at her terrified face I can't bring myself to finish her off. I ignore the cruel little Career-Emma trying to boss me around. I put my foot under her and tell her: "Get out of here, if you want to stay alive." Then I removed the bronze arrow from her calf and nudged her with my foot, causing her to roll down the quickly depleting mound of supplies. She cries out in pain as she lands at the bottom, her curly brown hair matted with sweat. I never said I was going completely soft.

An apple dislodged from it's place on the mound and rolling towards the girl I shot startled me. Two large boys are glowering down at me. I grip my bow even tighter, ready to fight. The boy on the left has dark black hair and tanned skin, holding a javelin at my chest. The boy on the right is tall and strong, holding a knife poised to throw; the sarcastic boy from Three. I don't have enough time to be very surprised, though, because an unseen signal passes between them and I see the little signs that show they are about to kill me. Their hands tensed, wrists flicked back slightly, all in a split second. I close my eyes, ready to die, but something delays my end for a moment. Curiosity gets the better of me and I peek an eye open. What I see causes my eyes to pop open and widen to the full limit. My district partner, Marcus Lively, is lopping Eleven boy's head off with his sword. A mad fire rages in his eyes, which I haven't seen before in him. Derek Labre, the boy from Three, slams his knife into Marcus' right arm, causing him to catch his breath and stagger a bit. Derek takes off knowing that sticking around would be a very bad idea after what happened to his friend. Maroon blood soaks into my boots, and that reminds me of the knife sprouting from Marcus' shoulder. I shoulder my bow and grab his left arm. "C'mon," I said, leading him off the Cornucopia and toward the other Careers. "Let's get you out of here."

I try to seem calm, for Marcus' sake, but from what I can tell, he is fuming. I wouldn't blame him, I mean, if I had a knife in my shoulder I would be furious too. I almost had a knife sticking out of me though, and a javelin too. I have reason to be angry. Eleven's death doesn't cause any guilt to rise in me, but I feel absolute malice toward the one that got away.

_Derek Labre, you're a dead man._

**Fifteen Minute Later: Siena Clouds POV (Announcer)**

"Hey there Capitol!" I chirp enthusiastically at the camera. My hair has recently been woven with thousands of silver strands of tinsel and my scalp is tingling. I like that: the tingle of a new hairstyle. I'll be starting a new trend in the Capitol in no time. "Exciting bloodbath, wasn't it Ptolemey?" I turn to my partner, Ptolemy Cristo. He nods enthusiastically.

"Oh yes Siena. What did you think about Celsie's rescue?" I remember that scene particularly well. I thought it was so romantic, the way Colt had run to her like his own life depended on it.

"I thought it was one of the most romantic things I've seen in the Games since I've started announcing. I nearly cried." I traced the path of an imaginary tear. I could almost hear some audience members snickering at my dramatic gesture. "What about our second rescue? The District Four tributes, that was terrifying. You could tell they were both fuming."

"Well, Siena, wouldn't you be mad if someone tried to skewer you?" I reluctantly nod. I can almost hear more laughs. They love our stupid antics. "But weren't you sad when that Annora girl died?"

"Of course!" This wasn't just to agree for the Capitol's sake, I truly like her. "I can't believe her luck, stabbed by the boy from Two, then eaten alive by flesh-eating trout. Poor girl." I nearly teared up for real this time. Ptolemy nodded sadly.

"And Avella, shot by Emma and then kicked down the mound? I am very surprised that she found the log bridge and was able to cross with that leg. I wonder if somebody will ally with her later."

"Well, enough chatter, time to show the faces of the killed tributes." I said solemnly. I let my face relax and my small smile drop. The tributes pictures would flash on the screen and give Ptolemy and I a moment to relax. Among the dead were Annora, Kin from District Eleven, Ax from District Twelve, Meck from District Five, and Lare from District Six. It was a pretty weak bloodbath, so the Gamemakers would have to come up with something quick, or the audience will get bored. Heaven forbid that the Games get boring.


	16. Sponsor info

**Sponsoring!**

_**Here are our current sponsors:**_

Narcissa Weasley ~ $1,000,000

Twirlgirl821 ~ $900,000

icefox425~ $600,000

_Nice Career*_ ~ $700,000

**Here are the prices for objects:**

Small bundle of food (i.e. loaf or two of bread, slice of cheese) ~ $300,000

Medium bundle of food (i.e. four small loaves, piece of fruit, some cheese) ~ $600,000

Feast (i.e. ten small loaves, stew, three pieces of fruit, small wheel of cheese) ~ $900,000

Small medicine (i.e. small tub of ointment for poison ivy, bites, painkiller, etc) ~ $400,000

Medium medicine (i.e. heavy duty painkiller, burn ointment, etc) ~ $700,000

Large medicine (i.e. life saving medicine, heavy duty burn ointment, etc) ~ $1,000,000

Small weapon (i.e. knife, slingshot, darts, etc) ~ $200,000

Medium weapon (i.e. small pack of knives, poison darts, etc) ~ $500,000

Large weapon (i.e. sword, bow and arrows, etc) ~ $800,000

_*** Nice Career doesn't sponsor one specific person**_


	17. Burns

**Okay, so here is the next chapter! Whoo! ****Colt POV (D9)**

* * *

A tear snakes down my cheek and onto Celsie, motionless in my arms. I would die if I didn't feel the slight rasping of her breath. Iota was sprinting across a fallen log over the wide stream, careful not to slip, it was very narrow. I cross next, extra careful with Celsie in my arms, but not breaking my steady run. It seems like it took forever once I set my feet on the ground. We decide to go to the dense woodland forest. Looking back at the water I crossed, I see it is now a stream of blood. Celsie's blood is in there too. That thought keeps me going, Celsie is still rapidly losing blood from the bite on her knee, and her face is rapidly becoming more and more pale. And the scariest fact of all, her breath is rapidly getting quieter and raspier. We had to find a place to stop and camp soon or Celsie would…Celsie would… I gulp. I can't even think about it! It won't be an option! I won't let it!

"Colt, how's Celsie?" Kiki asks quietly. By the tears running down my face, they must know that this is a sensitive subject right now. I gulp again.

"She's fading fast. We need to find somewhere to stop immediately." My voice cracks a little bit. Sure, I've only known her for about a week, but she is clearly one of the best people here. One of the kindest, one of the most caring, one of the overall most incredible people I've ever met, and it would be wrong for her to die right now. She stirs a little bit in my arms and I adjust them. At least she is stirring at all. We continue our hike into the woods. The floor is littered with branches and leaves, making it hard for somebody to sneak up on us. We are surrounding by dark green trees full of leaves. Birds chirp over our heads. It is fairly warm too, so it seems like it wouldn't be a bad place to stay, at least as long until Celsie heals.

We trek on, deeper and deeper, for about thirty more minutes. "Let's stop here," Kiki says once we reach a fairly large clearing. She had brought up the rear. "We were moving fairly fast, and I couldn't see anyone following us. The Careers went into the jungle, I saw a couple lone tributes go into the tundra, and maybe one or two in the desert. I think we are safe." The ground is covered in soft green grass and the sun beats down through openings in the trees, warming the clearing. I clear off a spot on the ground and set Celsie down gently. She stays asleep. I step back and sit down a couple feet away. Kiki volunteers to build the shelter, since she has been living on the streets she knows the most about that stuff. Iota immediately sets to work on Celsie, unzipping the lower half of her pants, turning them into short shorts. Her legs are covered every inch with angry red burns, some starting to blister. Her knee is gouged open, torn by the trout muttation. Iota rips some moss off of a tree and presses it to Celsie's still bleeding knee. It is quickly soaked, and Iota turns her green eyes to me. Her tone is deathly calm.

"Colt, get some more moss." She gestures to the trees surrounding us. I make about three trips, getting as much moss as possible with each load, desperate to help. I move to go back to my seat, but Iota grabs my arm to stop me. "Stay. I'll need help, especially if she wakes up." I kneel near Celsie's head, next to Iota. I'd rather focus on her face than her injured legs. Her crimson hair was splayed around her face, matted with sweat. Her face looked half peaceful, half in agonizing pain. She stirs in her sleep again, letting out a small groan. Iota switches out the moss, applying more pressure to the knee. Celsie's groans get louder and louder, and I know that she is close to waking up. Her hands clench into fists and her eyes flutter half open.

"Mom… it hurts Mom… stop it," she groans. I realize that she is still half-asleep.

"Celsie, relax. It's Colt, remember? Iota's here too." I say soothingly. "It's okay." Celsie's eyes slowly open all the way; chocolate brown orbs glazed over with pain. Iota presses down on the knee again, apparently it hasn't stopped bleeding. She lets out a loud cry of pain, her hand unclenching and clenching again. Iota presses again, and Celsie blindly lashes out her fists, not realizing that Iota is trying to save her life.

"Colt, keep her hands down!" Iota commands. I gently grab her hands and hold them, letting a small blush creep up into my cheeks. Her eyes desperately try to focus through the pain. She finally looks at my face with some recognition.

"Thanks again." She lets out a little smile, but I can't match it. Her face is still so pale, and her hands just lie limply in mine now. I decide that now she knows what's going on, I can let her hands go. I release them, but my surprise Celsie reaches up and grabs my left hand in her weak right one. At that moment, I know I won't let go.

**Kesha POV (D12)**

I follow the large alliance into the dense woods, knowing that there will probably be enough food for all of us in there, and they seem much friendlier than the Careers. My stylist left the jewels around my belly button and the streaks in my hair, maybe so I could have a definite style, even in the arena. I don't mind. I think that the streaks are pretty cool, and I've always wanted a belly button ring, but I guess flame colored jewels around my belly button will have to suffice. This alliance looks pretty interesting. There is a pretty girl with brown hair, green eyes, and extremely long fingernails, who seems to almost be acting as leader. She crosses the log first, gesturing to the others with her practically clawed hands. Hand to hand combat would be a very bad idea with this girl around. She could claw your face off with those natural daggers. Following her, carefully but quickly, is a boy with black hair and shining green eyes, carrying something. Upon closer inspection, I realize that he is carrying a limp girl with red hair, and his eyes are shining because they are filled with tears. My gut wrenches. They don't deserve this.

Following the muscular boy and the redhead is a slight little girl with messy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and wild eyes, like she was already being hunted. She kept looking over her shoulder, and I made sure that it seemed that I was heading towards the desert, to throw her off guard. I didn't want to kill anyone, but I don't want advertise the fact that I am following them and probably be killed. Once they reach the cover of the trees, I wait a few seconds and sprint across the thin log bridge and dash into the treeline about ten feet away from them. The floor is littered with leaves and twigs, perfect for giving away my cover, so I desperately try to be as quiet as possible. Though I am a thin girl, every step I take still sounds like I weigh as much as an elephant. My bright blue eyes home in on a big tree with low branches. Bingo.

I sprint to the tree on tiptoes, trying to make as little sound as possible but again in vain. I hoist myself onto the bottom branch and then clamber into the higher branches, not high enough to make my stomach do flip-flops, but high enough that there I branches I can climb too and I can clearly see and hear the alliance next to me. Plus, I'll make a lot less noise. I zoom around to the other side of the tree and grab onto another tree, repeating this monkey-ish pattern for a while. When it starts to become something I don't have to think about, I eavesdrop on the other tributes. The black-haired boy looks really worried, I can see why. The redhead in his arms is bleeding profusely through her knee, and her face looks deathly pale. Not good. More tears spill from his emerald green eyes and land on the girl. Poor thing. Anger rises in my heart. The Capitol would really throw these two in here only to have to kill each other when the Games actually start? All for the Capitol's enjoyment! Sympathetic tears spill from my eyes as I think about this. No one has _ever _looked at me like that, even Mom and her sleazy slew of boyfriends never looked at each other like that, and the Capitol would just throw it away?

I have to help them.

Nevermind the following plan, I can help them. I swear that I can.

I will help them.

I follow in the trees again, until we reach a clearing and I am forced to stop. I wait to see if they will go around or stop here. It seems like a perfect place to set up camp, and I can see them wanting to lie down and sleep away the horrors of the bloodbath. I could keep watch, if they'd want. Of course, they probably wouldn't let me, but I could offer. I wait in my tree for a little while. The boy lays the injured redhead girl on the ground gently, making sure not to wake her. The girl with the brown hair and long fingernails unzips the legs of her pants and starts to treat her legs. Not only is her knee torn open, her legs are covered in flaming burns, I don't even know if she'll be able to walk after they finish up with her. I gasp. This could prove fatal, because thirty-two percent of her body is burned, when only fifteen will prove fatal. Iota may be good with the knee, but she should really be worrying about the burns. They look at least second-degree, since she is in agony, and I know just how to treat them. I leap out of my tree, landing lightly on the ground, I wasn't that high up. I know they need me, and I know that I need them too. As I watch, the two of them work on the girl's knee, and the wild-eyed girl left to build a shelter. The dark haired girl orders around the black-haired boy, and I gather that his name is Colt. The redhead stirs a little bit, and murmurs something. I can't hear it, but Colt talks to her in a soothing voice. From him I gather that the redhead is named Celsie. That's all I need to know, and I stroll into the clearing cautiously, not wanting to startle them. I was behind them, so they haven't seen me yet. I wasn't able to nab any weapons, so I raise my hands in surrender. That girl has some knives strapped to her belt, along with the knives on her fingers. The boy looks like he could snap my neck if he wanted. I clear my throat and address them.

"I can help with that, you know." The girl unsheathes a knife and flings it at my chest, but I see it coming and duck, making it lodge itself in the tree behind me. I reach up with my hand and yank it free, tossing it away from me. "Trust me, I don't have any weapons." Colt looks desperate for help, and he mumbles something to Iota. I watch with a solemn expression on my face, hoping that they will let me help.

"Fine. You can help." The girl says in defeat, but I don't hear any venom in her voice. Maybe she would let me stick around. I walk around to the other side and see that Colt and Celsie are holding hands, and he is crying some more. I smile in spite of myself. I inspect her legs close up.

"You were risky, taking off the pant legs like that." I told the girl. "You're lucky they didn't stick to her and rip off the skin." Colt looks up in alarm.

"Well, I thought you were going to help us with her knee, Twelve." The girl says.

"The legs are much more serious. Second-degree at least." Celsie seems awake. "Do the burns hurt?" I ask her.

"Extremely." She admits.

"Yup, second-degree. With third degree, her nerves would be fried and she wouldn't be able to feel her legs. We need water, and lots of it." I decide.

"But the water is what burned her in the first place," Colt says. I shake my head.

"That was the water around the Cornucopia."

"But the water split into different streams, the water all throughout the arena is poisoned!" the girl cries.

"You noticed that the water was bloody right?" I ask them. They nod. "Well, the streams had not a drop in them. They are safe, but they don't provide too much water for all of us. We'll have to take her to the stream. You keep watch." I told the girl. "You, carry her there. And she might want to give you a knife in case someone comes for us." I tell Colt. The girl picks up the knife that she threw at me and hands it to Colt. `

"Try any funny business-"

"He could probably strangle me with one hand, without the knife, why would I try and funny business?" The girl seems to understand, and she nods at us. Colt scoops up Celsie again, and we head to the stream.

"How do you know where the stream is?" he asks.

"There's one in either direction. Just as long as we keep a straight path, we will find it. I'm Kesha." I say to him in response.

"Colt, and this is Celsie." He looks at the barely conscious girl sadly.

"She's a fighter, you know." I smile. "Most would have died sooner or at least killed themselves if they had a burn that big and bad, and to top it all off a huge bite on their knee." Colt smiles back, and we walk the rest of the way in companionable silence.

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**Aww, I like Colt and Kesha's new little friendship. Poor Celsie, poor Colt. :'( Anyways, Kesha's POV was waay longer than I expected, I wanted it to be as long as Colts, but her's was like one and a half times as long hehe. So, I didn't put any more POV cuz it was already fairly long, and I didn't really want to switch subjects cuz then it would get confusing.**

**Anyways, now for the questions! Will Kesha be able to save Celsie? Does Celsie like Colt too or was she just looking for comfort? What do you think about Colt and Kesha's friendship? And last but not least, who's POV's should be next? (seriously help me, I am at a loss hehe).**

**Happy Hunger Games!**


	18. Runaway

**Carbon POV (D1)**

Us Careers, armed more than the Peacekeepers, trek into the jungle. I want to suggest that we go into the dense woods, 'cause I saw the big alliance go there, but of course I don't suggest it, or the District Two boy would try to kill me probably. They all want to, they just won't admit. It's an unspoken idea, evident in all of their eyes and expressions that they give me. At least the new guy doesn't hate me so much. He seems pretty nice, same with Ebony, the girl from District Two. They seem like they understood how alone I feel, how friendless I feel. Really, that's how I've always felt.

We reach a small clearing and Erik commands us all to stop. We have another addition, the girl from Ten, who was a last minute invitation. She is apparently super-good with snares, and she is easy to look at, so I can see why the guys wanted her in. She and Glamor act like best friends, and both of them practically sit in Erik's lap, which makes him super happy. Glamor whispers something in Erik's ear, and he looks at her, pats her thigh, and gives her a sleazy smile. He looks at all of us, sitting down in the clearing, and addresses us like he is our leader. I guess he is, since he is the second strongest here, second only to Ashur, and he is the most Career-like out of all of us. "So, I think that we should make camp here." He glances sideways at Glamor and she smiles.

"Why, Erik?" Ebony asks, tired of him already. She asks him that question like she would ask a bratty little kid, which, underneath all the bulging muscle, he is. Glamor whispers something again.

"Because, _Ebony_, this is big enough for all of us, and it is close to the front of the treeline, which means that we will know when new tributes come into the jungle." Erik says, smirking. But Glamor's smirk is bigger. I've figured out what she is doing, and it's _very_ smart. She tosses a lock of platinum hair behind her. "How many dead?"

"I heard five," Evi purrs. Erik's eyes flash, but he squeezes her leg anyways.

"Only?"

We all nod. He sighs in aggravation. "Well I guess the Careers are weaker than usual. Maybe it has something to do with their leader." Ashur says, standing up. Challenging Erik. Unfortunately, he accepts the challenge, drawing the short sword at his waist and charging Ashur. Ashur, of course, expects this and parries his blow with his own sword. They pull apart and get ready to attack again but in a flurry of chocolate brown hair Ebony has disarmed them both, by twisting her hilt against each of their hilts causing their swords to clatter to the ground. Before they can retrieve them she raises her two swords to their chests, breaking up the fight as soon as it started. Both of them are glaring daggers at each other, breathing heavily. They are also unhappy at being beaten by a girl. Ebony on the other hand, hasn't broken a sweat. It seems like the girls are the strongest Careers here: Glamor, the unexpected genius, and Ebony, the beautiful master with swords.

This creates enough insanity but only for a few minutes, so I have only a second to make my decision. I grab a pack filled with a couple loaves of bread, a bedroll, some iodine, bandages, and a canteen full of water. I scurry silently to the edge of the clearing, taking one last look around. Erik and Ashur are screaming at each other, Ebony is screaming at them, and Glamor, Marcus, and Emma are taking in all the chaos, their backs turned to me. The only one showing no interest in the fight whatsoever is Evi, her body angled both towards the other Careers and to me, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes empty. She emanates more loneliness than I have ever seen. She slowly turns her head to me, her empty eyes comprehending what I am doing. She lifts her hand and waves at me, winking. That's when I make my escape.

I zoom through the strange jungle trees, trying to make as little noise as possible. Alien sounds echo around me, getting louder with each passing minute. I run for hours, the sky getting darker. It must be around seven in the evening.

My breaths come short and fast, and my lungs are screaming in protest. After about three hours of running away from the Careers, I come across a clearing far enough away to feel safe. I slump against the large moist trunk of a tree, sinking to the ground and resting my head on the tree.

"Uhhhhh." The moan causes me to leap to my feet and fumble around in the pack for a knife.

"Wh-who's there? I have a weapon!" I cry, holding the serrated knife in front of me. Perfect for cutting through bone. The thought makes me shiver inwardly. "Show yourself!" My heart rate accelerates with each agonizingly slow second. My eyes scan the twilight-lit clearing. The moan sounds again, and I slowly make my way towards the sound. My eyes focus on a dark lump that I dismissed as a pile of vines and leaves. I stare at it for a while and nearly jump out of my skin when it moves slightly. "Who are you?"

The lump moves a little bit more and I see a pair of forest green eyes staring back at me. "Well clearly you're not my brother," she jokes. "I'm Avella. You know, the one whose brother went in these Games with her." I had heard about her and seen her around during training. I remember thinking she was cute and the thought makes me blush. Back then, her curly dark brown hair was perfectly combed and looked nice. Now, it is tangled and matted with sweat. She tried adjusting herself again but lets out a small cry of pain, her eyes squeezing shut.

"What's wrong?" I insist, my voice laced with concern. Avella sits up a little bit more.

"My leg. Girl from Four got me in the Bloodbath. First she shot me, then she kicked me down a hill. Nice, huh?" Avella laughs wryly. When she looks back up, her eyes are shining with tears. "You know, I would give anything, _anything_ in the world to be somewhere else right now. Don't take it the wrong way, I'm glad for the company, but-" Her voice breaks and she looks at the ground.

"Can you get up?" I ask her, eyeing her torn legs and the dark red hole still oozing blood. Avella slowly sits completely upright, tucking her unharmed leg underneath her body. She reaches out her arms, and taking her hint, I grab them hoist her up. I sling one of her arms over my shoulders, and wrap my other arm around her waist, blushing a little bit. She leaned into me, grateful for my support, and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. "You okay?" I inquire, furrowing my brows.

"Yeah, I'm fine," She says, giving me a dazzling white smile. I know that there is more to what she said than what I heard: 1) she trusts me. 2) we are now in an alliance.

* * *

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while! School kept me busy, and we just closed our performance of RENT so that kept me swamped too :( **

**Also, looking at my other stories, I made a mistake in the bloodbath chapter. I said that Ax from Twelve was dead, but I really meant Drew from Ten. Sorry for that! Also, sorry this chapters short, I ma suffering from a terrible condition known as severe writer's block :( so if you have any ideas at all about the story send me a PM or review! Reviews make me happy ;) **


	19. The Loners

**Hey guys! Here is the next chapter, I think the name is pretty self-explanatory; this chapter is devoted to the loner tributes. **

**Mila POV (D3)**

I run through the desert, away from the Cornucopia and the lingering smell of blood. I've been running for about a day, taking only short breaks, putting my health second to my insatiable desire to get away from the horrors of this morning. It's probably about nine at night, but the arena seems to bend time for me, so the hours felt like eternities.

All of a sudden, a pebble, probably kicked by me, flies into the air, only to bounce right back with a hiss. Experimentally, I toss another small pebble in front of me. It should fly into the vast unending desert beyond, but bounces back off as it makes its airborne arch. A small puff of smoke comes from the spot in the air the pebble hit, and something smells burnt. The Gamemakers must have put a force field up to corral the tributes in. A chilling thought enters my mind: _Could the Gamemakers control the force field to push the tributes together?_ Just as quickly as it comes, I banish the thought, because that may make me too afraid to use my new tool. Yes, the force field is now my tool. The other tributes won't know what hit them.

Maybe I am the wittiest one here, after all.

**Derek POV (D3)**

Chilled, I burrow deeper into the blanket that I took from the Cornucopia. I was terrified up there, on the mound, stealing the supplies like a regular Career. And the look on that girl's, Emma's, face, was enough to scare anyone senseless. And to make things even worse, her equally scary District Partner swung in to her rescue seemingly from nowhere, and next thing I know Kin's severed head is bleeding on Emma's shoe. Yup, this must be the absolute most _fun_ day of my life! Note the heavy sarcasm.

Now, thanks to the dynamic duo from Four, I am too scared to sleep; every sound is those two coming to massacre me mercilessly. Of course, I am just paranoid. But it never killed anyone to be careful. Besides, it's too soon for Crissy to watch me die. I wanna make it to the final eight, at least. _Yeah, like that's gonna happen,_ some stupid, downer side of me says. What scares me is that this side may also be my reasonable side. _Shut up,_ the other side of Derek, the one that is hopeful and naïve, commands.

I move my feet in circles to keep warm; won't do me any good to freeze to death in here. I laugh in spite of myself, surveying my surroundings. Isn't this a desert? It's supposed to be hot in the desert. _Nothing's ever what it's supposed to be in the arena,_ downer/stupid/reasonable side reminds me.

"Oh well," I say to myself as my eyes droop closed. "Sleep might be good…"

**Ax POV (D12)**

I stumble around blindly in the woods; my hand is bleeding profusely. _Crap, _I mutter, seeing the river of dark red dripping to the underbrush. I stumble around some more, curse those stupid killer fish. They should just eat themselves. I chuckle out loud, realizing how stupid that last statement sounded. I must be at least three miles into the woods when I hear almost silent footfalls behind me. I spin around to see a girl with dark blonde hair standing behind me, her mouth a small surprised _o_.

"You lived," Kesha says finally, tugging at a strand of her streaked hair. _Thanks Captain Obvious_, I think, but don't voice. She's just as scared as I am.

"Yeah well, barely," I respond vaguely, and her striking blue eyes find my torn hand. She looks back up at me, a question in her eyes. "Damn piranhas got me. Don't worry, it doesn't hurt too much." I add the last part impulsively after seeing her worried eyes. I don't know why, but she shouldn't be worried about me. She raises an eyebrow, which I know is Kesha language for _I'm not an idiot, idiot_. I grin. "You didn't buy that, huh?" With a shake of her head Kesha rips off the edge of her white camisole, bearing her bejeweled midriff. She comes over to me with the jagged strip of white fabric and binds it tightly around my wound. I wince, and she makes a _tsk_-ing sound with her teeth.

"This'll help, I swear."

"After it makes me senseless with pain."

"I can make that happen."

At Kesha's last statement I feign offense. She giggles, and finishes wrapping my hand. "All fixed. See ya." Kesha sprints off, and I think of following her but eventually decide not to.

Kesha Goldenrod has just made my life even more confusing.

**Sparks Vizens POV (Capitol Teen)**

I feel the warmth of Sheena as she snuggles into my chest. "Hey, careful of my hair!" I reprimand to my girlfriend, never tearing my eyes of off the glowing television screen in front of me. Sheena and I are watching, of course, the Hunger Games.

I feel some off the warmth recede as Sheena backs off a little, letting me stop worrying about my new frosted hairdo. On the screen the two tributes from Twelve have met up again. The picture pauses, and the two annoying commentators, Siena and Ptolemy pop onto the screen.

_"Ooh-la-la," Siena screeches to her coworker. "Is this the beginning of a new romance, Ptolemy?"_

_Ptolemy nods vigorously. "I sure hope it is, Siena. I __adore__ these two!" Ptolemy coos back. _I'm positive this seemingly harmless exchange between two tributes will be over all the tabloids tomorrow. Sheena shifts towards me, so I pause the T.V. and meet her synthetically gold eyes.

"Don't you think their romance is so tragic, Sparkie?" Sheena moves her face closer to mine. I hate the name but lust for Sheena so I let it pass. "I'm glad ours doesn't have to be." Sheena kisses me almost before she finishes her sentence.

_I'm glad ours doesn't have to be too, babe._

**Okay, sorry for the short POV's, they'll be longer next time, i pinky-promise :). Anyways, leave a review about who's POV should be next!**

** P.S. I have a fictionpress account under the pen name BryonyBee, so feel free to check my stories out! **

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	20. Killers and Planners

**Hey guys! Don't worry, I haven't dropped off the face of the Earth. And I'm a total butthead for not updating in months! So soorrryy! I'm begging for your forgiveness.**

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Anyways, without further ado, here is the next, very overdo chapter:

**Avella POV (D7)**

The pain in my leg renews with every teeny tiny move I make, the dread in my heart growing with each beat of it, and the hollowness in my eyes increasing with each blink. And its only the second day.

According to Carbon, I slept through the anthem last night. I am so glad that I did. The showing of the dead tributes is disrespectful to their memory and a psychological game with the rest of the tributes, advertising that nobody is safe from the unmerciful massacre that happens annually. I bet it would happen more than once a year if they didn't have to build the arena.

As my forest green eyes adjust to the early morning light, I see Carbon slumped against a tree, arm tensed around a serrated knife and eyes bloodshot but wide open. We are on the verge of the jungle and the tundra, sitting close to the stream that separates the sections. At first we were terrified that all the water throughout the arena was poisoned, but we all know now that it is as safe to drink as the stuff in the Capitol.

"Hey," I say to Carbon. "Why don't you sleep, and I take next shift?" He turns his weary eyes to me.

"But your leg…"

"Just trust me, okay?"

Carbon looks reluctant, but nods off as soon as he consents, snoring loudly. I sit myself up, gripping the knife, when I hear a crashing in the trees. It's nearby, and definitely no monkey.

"Carbon!" I scream, thankfully, he had only been asleep for a few minutes so he woke quickly. His eyes become wild.

"What is it?" He cries. It is then that I realize that screaming may not have been a good idea. I scramble to my feet, leaning heavily against the tree because of my wounds. The knife is ready in my fist.

A huge girl appears, with a huge nose and a very muscular body, strength over stealth. She has a bloodthirsty look in her eyes, and I yell for Carbon to run as I scramble up the tree like a squirrel. I am slightly less swift as I would have been had I not been injured, but it was obvious that the girl would not be able to follow me.

I leap through the branches, leaves whacking me in the face but not causing me to falter. Once I cross the stream into the tundra, there are no more trees for me to climb. I drop to the snow covered ground, my feet sinking into the wet snow. I forgot my jacket on the other side. As soon as I hit the ground, I collapse from the weight of my stabbed leg. Looking up from the ground and clutching my leg in blinding pain, I see that Carbon has barreled across the stream as well. A worried look in his eyes, my ally hurries over to me, pulling me to my feet and steadying me before his eyes widen and glaze over, a bubble of fresh, crimson blood emerging from his lips. The silver tip of a sword juts out from his narrow chest, and he looks at me in panic before his head lolls to the side. The sword is pulled out, and the body of my late ally sinks to the snow covered ground. Standing in front of me with a bloodied sword in her hand is the girl that we were running from, a crazed look on her face.

Rage fills me before sadness does, and I do something so impulsive and instinctive that it could've been a suicide mission. I bring my right arm back, and my bony, tan fist connects with the girl's chin, her ugly face contorted in pain before she falls back, her head connecting painfully with the ground. Without a thought, I pick up Carbon's serrated knife and plunge it into the girl. Again. And again. And again. Finally, regaining some sense of sanity, I leap off of the girl, long dead but inflicted with fresh wounds. I drop the knife, looking at my blood-drenched hands.

My forest green eyes widen with the horror of what I've done, and I back away slowly, before sinking into the snow, leaning against a boulder. I wipe my hands frantically on my tan pants, wiping off the evidence. Tears blur my vision as I goggle at the two bodies not twenty feet away from me. The once pure white snow is stained through and through with the blood of two kids - two kids that had barely lasted. They could've been anything, and that was taken away. In the girl's case… by me.

My name is Avella Hightree. I am fourteen years old. And I am a killer.

**Corin POV (D7)**

_How could she?_

I punch a tree, rage hiding the pain.

_Why did she?_

I moan in frustration, not caring if anyone can hear me right now. I am beyond caring. Evi lied. Evi cheated. Evi is everything Avella said she would be. And most importantly, she's with _him_. Every since I started training for this stupid Games, I have hated him. Him being Erik. His mint green snake-like eyes, his slow, menacing smile, his lecherous gazes at Evi from across the room…

God save her.

My thoughts pulse and change like the tide against my skull, giving me a headache and leaving me wanting desperately to sink to the moss-carpeted ground and lean against a tree, sleeping my troubles away. But of course, you can never just sleep your troubles away in the arena. Once you wake up you'll be faced with even more than you began with.

But of course, stupidity and fatigue win out over all my other feelings, and the next thing I know, I am woken up by the boom of a cannon, loud and sonorous against the eerie quiet that blankets the forest. My eyes pop open in surprise. Once I register the sound that I heard, I leap to my feet, my eyes scanning the area. Another cannon sounds out.

_One for Avella, one for Evi, _a taunting, inhuman voice chants. _Sister dead, wannabe girlfriend dead. Dead dead dead. Deader than a fallen tree. Deader than a black hole. Deader than you are gonna end up in this Game. Dead dead dead!_

"Shut up!" I say aloud, gritting my teeth in frustration. I run off blindly into the darkness that it the forest. "Evi! Avella!" The sound of my anxious feet and loud voice cause some scurrying in every direction, forest animals that are fleeing from the predator. I wonder if that's how Evi and Avella sounded when they were killed. "You don't know that, you idiot!" I grumble to myself.

The anthem of Panem blares out of invisible, hidden speakers. My forest green eyes widen helplessly, not wanting to look at the sky but unable to resist. It is magnetic. The first day five people were killed. Down to nineteen. Today, at least two died. That makes seventeen. Nine more to go before the final eight. Nine more until a ticket home.

The anthem stops, and I prepare myself to see the worst. First, the picture of the little boy from District 1 flashes. He was a puny thing, and I think that the Careers finished him off.

The Careers.

Evi.

I wonder if she took her turn at the kid, dug her knife into his flesh.

Next up is the ugly girl from six, a brutish girl with an overlarge nose and a glare in her piggish eyes. The sky fades to black, no more pictures.

My girls are safe.

**Evi POV**

"Only two?" Erik glares at Ashur, as if the low mortality rate is all his fault.

"Yes, cap'n," Ashur replies sarcastically.

Erik glares back, and I know that another full out fight won't do any good. I stand on my tiptoes and whisper into his ear, so close that my words tickle his neck. He smells like sweat and blood and meanness. "Carbon died," I hiss, wincing at how I am disrespecting his memory. He was only fourteen! But, it's a part of my plan. My master plan. Nothing can go wrong. And nothing will.

"But, that wimp of a Career was finished off, so that's a good thing."

Marcus looks like he wants to protest, and Emma looks at her feet. Although they are the perfect Careers on the exterior, I think that they possess souls. Something that Erik clearly doesn't.

"He got what was coming for him, I think." Erik then decides to explain all of the things that he would have done to the kid, in graphic detail. I'm sure that Carbon's parents must be having a heart attack.

Emma stands up, clearly she has had enough. "I'm going to sleep." She leaps up and walks into the tent that accommodates all of the Career girls except Ebony, who prefers to sleep outside under the stars. The Career boys have a smaller tent, except for Erik, who has a tiny private one. He is the bulkiest, and he would probably kill Ashur in his sleep, so I think that this is for the best.

"Fine then, Ashur has first watch." Erik glares at him again for good measure, before moving towards his own small tent. The other Careers disperse to their own tents. I jog up to Erik, touching his arm lightly and leaning against him. The thought of being close to him makes me want to vomit. But I discipline myself, and I know that this is all necessary.

"Erik, can I sleep in your tent tonight? I'm afraid," I widen my emerald eyes as if I am just a little girl, afraid of the monsters under my mattress.

He smirks in response, snaking his arm around my waist as we crawl into the tiny space. It is barely big enough for me to lay down in, let alone Erik _and_ I. The proximity of us nauseates me.

He grins wickedly as he nudges me onto my back, his arms on either side of my shoulders, his face just above mine. He gently nudges my jacket off, revealing my skimpy camisole. I had left my long sleeve shirt in my pack, which was just outside of the girl's tent. As soon as the jacket is off, all sense of gentleness is gone, replaced by greediness.

Erik presses his lips to mine forcefully, almost hurting my teeth. My eyes are still open as he kisses me, and I very reluctantly close them and wrap my arms around his neck. After a few long moments, Erik pulls back to breathe. I relish in my few moments of clean, fresh, unspoiled-by-Erik air. But all too soon, Erik descends again. His lust surprises and scares me.

_It is going to be a long night_, I think, as I play my part. I roll myself onto Erik's chest, so that he is below me. He makes no sign of wanting to sleep. I inwardly groan.

_But it is a necessity_.

**Ashur POV**

I sit outside by the dying fire, absentmindedly wondering if I should add some more fuel. Footsteps crunching against the jungle floor alert me to the presence of Ebony. She is the only one I can stand here. Erik is just Erik, Glamor scares me, Emma and Marcus seem to eager to kill for my taste, and Evi just acts like Erik's personal plaything. Its disgusting.

I look up as Ebony sits next to me, the dying fire lighting up her eyes, the reflection of the flames flickering and sparkling in her irises, as if there were two burning flames in her eye sockets. I look to the sky, which reminds me of Carbon. He was just a kid. Barely had a chance to live.

"Hey, you okay?" She asks me. Her gentleness reminds me of Anya. Her eyes are probably trained on the television screen as she twists her engagement band anxiously - a habit of hers when she was worried. I didn't want her to worry for me. I didn't want anyone to worry about me. Nobody should.

I clear my throat. "Uh, yeah. I'm fine." I laugh bitterly as I realize how stupid that sounds. We are pitted against each other in a fight to the death. Definitely not fine. "Well, as fine as you can be when you constantly look over your shoulder for District Two's sword ready to run you through like a kabob. As fine as you can be when you don't quite trust District One as much as everyone else. And as fine as you can be when a fourteen-year-old boy was just murdered and you couldn't do anything about it."

Ebony chuckles humorlessly and looks over her shoulder at Erik's tent. "I'm pretty sure District One is pretty, er, _occupied_ at the moment."

My face contorts in disgust. "What the hell is she doing?" I spit out.

"None of us except her know. And I'm pretty sure that no matter what delusions Erik has cooked up, its not because he is so spectacular."

"Still, she is like his little concubine! If you saw the way he looks at her…." I shake my head. I have nothing against Evi, but I worry for her because of Erik. I'm sure, however, that he won't kill her until she starts refusing him. Then he'll slit her throat and possibly torment her if her doesn't miss her "company", and probably advance on Glamor.

"And I've seen the way she looks _back_. Her smiles and gestures play along, but her eyes are hollow almost. She's not doing this because she can. She has a plan. Maybe one that can place her at the head of this pack instead of Erik. And I look forward to that day."

Ebony's wisdom and foresight surprises me. I just nod thoughtfully.

_Please, Evi. Have a plan._

**Well, I feel pretty bad for all of these charaters. I mean, Avella just had a pyschotic episode, Corin was betrayed (so he thinks), Evi has to go through torture to play out her mysterious plan, and Ashur and Ebony have fiancees/fiances at home. **

**Well, now I'm rambling so here's the questions:**

**Whose POV should be next? (I'm thinking Mila and Ax) What is Evi's plan?**

**Bye guys!**


	21. Gypsy Soul

**Mila POV**

Waiting around for something to happen tends to get pretty boring, especially when you are whipping your head around every other second to see if a crazy killer is about to mutilate you. Needless to say, I hadn't gotten much sleep the past few nights. It is the fourth day, and the only thing I've come in contact with so far has been the occasional squirrel and sometimes a snake.

The day before, I had decided to get off my butt in the desert and make it to the woodlands nearby, prompted by the indignant growling of my angry stomach. I am not a hunter, not in the least, so I went hungry for a while until I came upon a berry bush near my force field. Sitting there, eating berries, I decided to make a game out of tossing pebbles onto the invisible barrier and seeing how far they would fly back.

Humming to myself, I toss a rock at the force field, listening to the tiny little _pop!_ as it recoils, spewing a trail of smoke. Suddenly, there is a crunching in the bushes. I mentally do a roll call of the surviving tributes in the arena. The little boy from One had been shown in the sky two days before, so that left the supermodel. Both from two, and my partner is still alive, so both from three. Both from Four and the redhead from Five, none from Six, the siblings from Seven, the cute one from Eight, both from Nine, the blondish girl from Ten, the scrawny girl from Eleven, and surprisingly, both from Twelve. Only seven dead. Which meant the Careers had the arduous task of killing off seventeen more tributes, and I sure as hell did not want to be next.

I slink into the shadows provided by the towering willows and wait.

The crunching noises become so loud and close that it is almost unbearable, until finally the girl from District Eleven shoves through the shrubs. She looks mean, always has, and holds something in her hand. As she glares around at our surroundings, I decide surprising her is better than _being_ surprised by some hidden ally she might have, so I barrel out of the cover of the trees and sprint towards her.

She whips around with a gasp and I crash my shoulder into her ribcage, feeling something crack and not knowing whether it was from her or me.

She lets out a strangled cry as she tumbles backwards.

Right into the force field.

Right into my trap.

**Kiki Tavella (D11)**

Everything hurts.

It hurts more than hunger pains, the exasperated moans of your belly when a little too much bone is protruding through your skin.

It hurts more than getting your nose broken by some hussy who decided she was better than you and deserved taking everything you had.

It hurts like _hell_, that's what.

And it all happens in a second.

One minute, I see that girl's brown head barreling towards me, but surprise overrules intellect, and she knocks the breath out of me. Then pain, searing and consuming. It feels like every nerve in my body is on fire.

And for the second that I can keep my eyes focused, I see a surprised expression cross the girl's face and she darts off into the brush, a surprised little deer retreating to safety.

And then its black.

And then I'm dead.

**Iota Nightshade (D9)**

Celsie is slowing us down. No matter how much Colt tries to deny it, or how persistently Kesha insists she can fix her, it is obvious that the girl from District Five is going to die. And I hate to say it, but maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

She is only slowing us down. She's feverish and delirious and in agony. She's only slowing us down.

My mantra is the only thing keeping me going.

She is only slowing us down.

The only thing justifying what I am about to do.

But I can't. Not now, at least. Colt is still in camp, still staying by Celsie's side and getting all agitated when her eyelids flutter a bit. He would see, and he would kill me before I could even pluck a scarlet hair from CiCi's head. He'd have to leave, and then I could blame it on Careers, or something.

Or something.

"Where's Kiki?"

Colt's voice actually startles me, and I look up, not fully alert. "What?"

"Where did Kiki go?"

The District Eleven tribute had a gypsy soul, always seeming to go wherever it was that she wanted without thinking to tell anyone. I suppose it is all the better, her creepy eyes and air of mystery unsettled me, like she had gotten into too many fights and now wore an aura of violence like a cloak, concealing everything vulnerable.

I shrug. "She said she was going to find some food."

Colt frowns. "But that was three hours ago."

"Maybe she got lost."

He glares at me. "You don't care?"

"I do care, Colt—about _surviving_." I was exasperated now. "Maybe we'll be better off if Kiki got lost. We can't have any members of this alliance holding us _back_." I look pointedly at Celsie and Colt stands, curling his hands into fists.

"I need to go blow off steam."

I glare at him now. "Go right ahead."

As soon as he disappears into the tree line, I unsheathe the dirk hanging on my belt. Approaching Celsie's prone form, I press the knife against her heart. Her eyes snap open, and they glaze over with fear and delirium. I feel a pang of guilt but press harder.

She is only holding us back. Do what's best for the alliance.

I raise the blade for momentum, prepared to plunge it through Celsie's sickened heart, but suddenly, the blade clatters on the ground, creating a mini cloud of dust and leaves. Everything seems to be in slow motion and I clutch my stomach, which is now bleeding profusely. The world tilts sideways, and I see through my blurry vision Colt, emerging from the woods, a bow in his hands. There is an agonizing rip as he tears the arrow back through my body, and I gasp soundlessly, sucking in air which just seems to escape far too fast.

Colt whispers, "I'm sorry," and the world spins one more time before my vision fades to black.

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**Gosh, guys, I can't apologize enough. Not only for not updating since last March, but for such a crappy chappie.**

**I am not a huge fan of this one, but it serves its purpose and the next one will be better. (I solemnly swear!)**

**What do you think?**

**Future POVs? THG Movie in March? Jennifer Lawrence? Taylor Swift's THG song?**

**XOXOXO**

**Ally-Rose (your sucky author)**


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